The Griffinqueen
by Morgana
Summary: A total departure from the canon characters; an extraordinary girl battles her Slytherin enemy and later a man who wants to end all life. This is my first and main fic. Be warned... it is VERY long.
1. The She-Griffin (+Prologue)

The Griffinqueen- Chapter 1 

Woah... I just went through this a second time and was amazed by all the mistakes. I wasn't kidding in my A A/N (below). Well, it should be fixed now. 

The Griffinqueen

A/N: This is my first fanfic. Please let me know if you like it or even if you have any honest criticism; I hate people who go around dissing everyone. 

A A/N (another author's note): This was not made with an HTML editor and I can make mistakes. Let me know if you see something that doesn't quite work. E-mail at JessiSh@aol.com, or put it in your review. 

Long and annoying disclaimer that you don't have to read if you're not a lawyer: I acknowledge that none of these characters or places or ideas are mine except for Morgana, Circe, Uric, Morgana's parents, Merlin, the Podswollop charm, Johnson House, and Circe's parents. Hogwarts, the Sorting Hat, the Hogwarts Express, owl post, Professors Snape, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Vector, ect., Harry Potter, Penelope Clearwater, the four Houses: Ravenclaw, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor, Fawkes, Nearly Headless Nick, the Gray Lady, Great Gray owls, Muggles, the Minister and Ministry of Magic, Quidditch and all ideas related to it, including the players, their positions, balls, and the players' jobs in respect to their positions and excluding Morgana's local league, Roger Davies, Silver Arrows, Cho Chang, the Great Hall, Arithmancy, and anything else that I don't feel like putting down at the moment belong to J.K. Rowling. Also, Cassiopeia and Kiri belong to novadragon, and Stormy Riddle belongs to herself. I do have permission from EternalSailorChibi to use her characters, mainly because in real life she's one of my best friends, and I also have permission from novadragon. Portions of the dialogue will belong to my friends, because they feed me lines, especially for their characters. 

Note   
The editor realizes that there may be some discrepancies between this account and the popular Harry Potter series, such as certain roles played by Stormy. The reader is assured that these are, indeed, facts. The editor, in all cordiality, would like to emphasize that the Harry Potter view of Hogwarts is a dramatization, and, while conveying basically the same storyline, may not entirely fir the truth of events due to plot restraints. 

Prologue

The lights in the house flickered, then died. 

"Great," muttered a girl sitting at the table. She had gold hair and piercing brown eyes. She looked to be about ten or eleven, and she had been writing on a piece of parchment. 

The girl lifted her quill and got up from the table. 

"How come the lights HAVE to go out when I'm the only one here?" she complained to empty air. "Mother's at the store and Father and the triplets are at the dentist's. 

"How come we HAD to have a power outage?" 

She sighed and started pulling the kitchen cabinets open, feeling around inside of them in the dark. 

"Where DID Mother put the flashlight? We must have twenty and I can't even find ONE!" 

She turned and walked down the corridor, moving rather quickly because, though she never would have admitted it, the shadowy darkness scared her a bit. 

"Mother must hoard them in her room," she reassured herself. 

She finally reached her mother and father's bedroom and immediately began rummaging around in a drawer on the bedside table. 

"Aha!" She managed to locate a very old, very disused, and VERY dusty flashlight. It sputtered for quite a bit before finally turning into a bright beam that cut through the darkness like a knife. 

"Oh.... what's this?" The awed remark came out as the girl stared at a small, leather-bound book. Although she had seen plenty of books that were similar, there was something you felt, something intangible, that made it different. It seemed out of place in the drawer, as if it belonged to some far-off, mystical world. Embossed on fading gold letters on its front was a simple message. 

"Circe Mystos, 2001," the girl read aloud. 

Suddenly the wheels were turning in her head. 2001? Harry Potter must've been a kid then! The famous Harry Potter! What she would have given to be alive at that time... 

The realization struck her like a hammer strikes an anvil. 

If Harry Potter was a kid then, Mother would've been too! 

Maybe it's a diary. 

But when she opened the cover, the girl quickly saw it was no diary. 

"A recording. A recording of all that happened," the girl murmured. "In her fourth year, this Circe Mystos. She wrote down all that came to pass." 

She meant to merely skim the yellowed pages. But she found herself being pulled into the story. Soon the girl was living in the world of Hogwarts, twenty-five years ago. 

Chapter 1: The She-griffin

Crack! 

The angry lightning struck out at the tower, but it was not able to touch the magically protected tiles. 

Its tantrum did, however, disturb a monstrous creature perched on the roof. It was an enormous she-griffin. 

Her talons raked the roof as she gloried in the destruction of the storm. The mighty wings stretched to their full span, she reared up on her hind lion claws and raised her head to shriek her challenge to the sky. 

Eeeeyiiirrrrrr!! 

The cry echoed against the walls of the castle. It was bone-jarring, the eagle scream, as if you knew that the unimaginably free spirit of the hunting bird was packed into that one screech. 

Having belted out her war cry, the hunter took off into the night sky. 

* ~ *

It was very late indeed when Morgana stumbled into the Ravenclaw common room. 

Throughout her midnight journey, no one seemed to notice her. Not even the occasional ghost drifting along the corridors looked at her when she stared directly into a mirror, tapped it with her wand, muttered something inaudible, and disappeared up a staircase that wasn't there before. If you had been there, you would have sworn that her gold hair and brown eyes were never reflected in the fancy, silver-rimmed looking-glass. 

Wand in hand, she slipped into the common room, only to find it empty. Quickly, she was walking down the stone-paved corridor that branched off to the right. When she came to a spot on he left wall that had a magnificent eagle painted on it, Morgana turned to face the painted bird. She put both feet onto the floorstone directly in front of the eagle. 

Instantly, the outline of a door materialized. It swung open when she touched it. 

Morgana found herself in the girl's third year dormitory. Climbing to the top of the second bunk, she thanked her lucky stars that the ladder had not squeaked. She carefully removed her Great Gray owl from her pillow. It preferred her bed to the owlery, but then Morgana had a way with birds. 

Lying on her back staring at the blue ceiling, she began to remember how she got to be sneaking into her bed in Ravenclaw so late. 

Her parents, a witch and a wizard, had both been born among Muggles (non-magic people). It had not been doubted, however, that she would get into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, only a question of how, when, and why. 

As a young child, Morgana had showed great promise. To get her a headstart, therefore, her parents had begun to teach her in basic magic. They suddenly stopped. Morgana did not know why: they just did. She thought that perhaps Dumbledore had kept them from teaching her anything wrong, or maybe to not let her get ahead of the Muggle-borns who went to Hogwarts. At any rate, she learned nothing more of the craft she was so eager to practice until she got to the famed wizard school. 

She still remembered the day she got the letter. A huge black owl had flown in through the window, and immediately seated itself in her lap. She tore the letter off its leg, hardly daring to hope. Absentmindedly stroking the owl, she read the letter like a person who has always known that a good thing will come, but can hardly believe that it did. Presently, she forgot to keep petting the owl, when it really sunk in that she was going to wizard school, to maybe get a great career, maybe the Minister of Magic! 

Looking back, Morgana realized that she had been a little too ambitious, but nothing had seemed impossible that fateful day. 

Anyway, she had hardly slept at all for several weeks until the day to board the train at King's Cross on platform nine and three-quarters came. Then she fairly burst with excitement. On the train, she met Circe, who would become her best friend. To her delight, the Sorting Hat put them both in Ravenclaw. Her other friend, Uric, another Ravenclaw, had just sort of happened. He was one of the most fun people Morgana had ever met. They argued a lot, but they really did enjoy each other's company. 

All three were such close friends, however, that it had not been long before they found out each other's secrets. The whole reason that Morgana's secret had been secret at all was (1) to give her some peace, and (2) to keep parents from getting worried. After all, with the monster she could transform at will to, well, let's just say that parents would be a little nervous about their children's safety. Though let nobody say there weren't perks, like being able to do spells without a wand. 

It had always been that way. Her mother seemed slightly surprised she wasn't put in Gryffindor, but neither of her parents were worried. They did insist that she send owls all the time to the house, an old Victorian affair: her owl Merlin was getting quite a workout. 

She had gotten Merlin as a going away present from her parents. They had had no doubts that she would like an owl best. They were right. Merlin was the greatest pet she had ever had. So faithful, loyal, and loving in her predicament. Not many others were. 

Of course, being in the same year as Harry Potter, she had heard of him. Quite the hero he was. Penelope Clearwater had been a friend of hers when she got the news that she had been petrified. Everyone was horrified when it happened, and of course when Harry stopped the attacks, the rest of the school was so grateful they could hardly speak. Morgana was more than a match for a basilisk transformed, but if it caught her human, which was a danger, since both of her parents were Muggle-born, than she was finished. Even the ghosts were scared after the attack on Nearly Headless Nick. 

And also, saving the world three times from Voldemort was, obviously, a huge achievement. But she never paid too much attention to Harry. Maybe it has something to do with him stealing the spotlight, she thought bitterly. I could have been great, but all anyone pays attention to is the amazing Harry Potter. 

Looking again at the ceiling, she realized how different it was from her ceiling at home. At home, her bedroom was in one of the towers, one that pointed straight up to the sky. There was a huge skylight as its only ornament: otherwise it was completely white, with swirly patterns on it. 

Her thoughts became slower and less reasonable as she drifted off to sleep. 

* ~ *

"You look terrible!" remarked a concerned Circe. 

"Have you been out all night again?" accused Uric. 

"Hey, don't baby me," complained Morgana. "And, for your information, I was not out all night." 

Uric snorted. "Sure looks like it to me," he retorted. 

"Just drop it," intervened Circe. "Sheesh, you two could win the Catfighting Olympics!" 

"Who asked you?" questioned an irritated Morgana. 

"I see what Circe means," Uric quipped to himself. 

"Humph," Morgana grumbled, and stalked away from the breakfast table. 

* ~ *

Circe Mystos, an auburn-haired, dark blue-eyed Astronomy lover, usually took the peacemaker's side of any argument. Though she didn't mention it often, she had four brothers, equally older and younger, and an older sister. Her family was in fact descended in direct female line from Circe of Greece, the famous ancient sorceress. In this family, the girls inherited the name and the wealth, though usually there was only one girl per family. Circe being the second daughter, no one really knew what to do with her. Perhaps this, along with her middle child status, had to do with her timidity. In Morgana's opinion she needed to stand up for herself more, but then Morgana was the queen of self-esteem. It was a debate how two such different personalities were such close friends. Perhaps it proved the theory about opposites attracting. 

Uric, on the other hand, lived to be noticed. Somewhat in between class clown and nerd, he could and would make a joke about everything. He was a Muggle-born only child and one of his most common comic sources was his childhood. His tousled brown hair and twinkling chestnut eyes were a sure sight wherever there was a party. Though he didn't have much of a penchant for trouble, he was definitely a personality. 

As for Morgana herself, the best word to describe her was fierce. Except for Circe and Uric, no one else really cared to learn more. 


	2. Quidditch and Classes

The Griffinqueen- Chapter 2 

Chapter 2: Quidditch and classes

"So, everyone got it?" asked Morgana. 

The Ravenclaw House Qudditch team was to cold to contradict her. They were, for the most part, huddled in a row on a bench in the locker room, shivering and trying to make themselves as small as possible. Circe paced in a circle, rubbing her arms. Every so often she changed direction, so as not to get too dizzy. 

"Everyone got it?" repeated Morgana. 

She prided herself in helping her team get the most out of itself. As captain-in -training, Morgana pushed her team to the limit. 

When she got no answer for the second time, she decided to just get on with it. "I give up. Come on," she sighed. 

The team practically whooped as they finally got out into the sun. Even if it wasn't much warmer on the field, they could move about some. 

When Morgana took off, she felt the same soaring sensation in her stomach that she'd felt her first time on a broom. 

She hadn't been a natural, of course. When her parents first put her on a broom at the tender age of three, she'd promptly fallen off. But after years of practice, she became an excellent flyer. 

To practice Quidditch in her Muggle town, Morgana joined a local league. The league, however, couldn't meet as often as she would have liked. For one thing, they had to get to the field. It was remote, at least forty miles away from town. An immensely complex Invisibility Shield spell was required, which the coaches provided, because the students weren't allowed to use magic outside of school. Often, the games had to be postponed or canceled because the person holding up the shield had suddenly collapsed. Once, Morgana was caught a hundred and fifty feet above the ground, completely exposed. Luckily, no one was passing, and she was able to land safely before the next car came by. 

Those summer league games had been her only way to play the sport she loved until she got onto the Ravenclaw House Quidditch team. She was placed as a Beater, which was fine, since this was the position she normally played. Although Morgana was a third year, it was her first year on the team, owing to the enormously long waiting list. Circe, a Chaser, got on at the same time as she did. 

Besides Cho Chang, the Seeker, Morgana and Circe were the only girls on the team. Morgana was captain-in training, due to the fact that they didn't want to make her a captain in her first year of playing for the team, and because Allen Davies was in his sixth and second-to-last year at Hogwarts. 

After a superb practice, the team went in to join breakfast in the Great Hall. Merlin the owl had been looking for her for quite some time, when she came in late. He dropped a package and a letter in her lap. The letter was from her mother, the mayor of their Muggle town. It said: 

Dear Morgana, 

Hope you're having a good time at Hogwarts. Here is something I thought you might like. 

Merlin seemed really vigorous when he came to deliver my weekly letter. I hope you've been exercising him enough. 

How are all your friends? I was thinking of inviting them to spend Spring Break with us at Johnson House. What do you think? 

Write Me Back,  
Mum 

Johnson House was the manor they lived on. The name had nothing to do with the actual occupants. 

Morgana ripped open the package: it was topped with another note that said: "Don't show this to the librarian, she'll have fits." Inside was a very old book of complicated spells. Morgana silently thanked her mother. She had just been getting bored with the endless repetition of the student-level spells. She pulled out a scrap of parchment and her quill and wrote a note back to her mother. 

thanks very much. Write more later. Am already late eating breakfast because of Quidditch practice. Kisses,  
Morgana 

* ~ *

Later, in Arithmancy class, Morgana puzzled over the complicated figures. Her head bent over her paper as she scribbled scratch work. Even so, she went faster than the rest of the class, and she was on above-grade-level work. 

Professor Vector, the teacher, sat at her desk, sorting papers. Vector, though not Morgana's head of house, had taken the third year under her wing. When class was dismissed and the students began to filter out, she motioned for Morgana to stay. 

Morgana promptly panicked. Was it about her grades? With all the advanced work she was doing... 

Vector cleared her throat, breaking into Morgana's nervous thoughts. 

"Now, don't fear, Morgana, I'm just going to talk to you about your wonderful grades." (A huge sigh of relief was heard from Morgana's direction) "I've talked to Professor Dumbledore and he agrees with me. 

"He and I both think you should meet another of our Hogwarts honor students." 

Vector got up and began walking to the door. But before she could get to it, it slammed open. 


	3. A Slytherin

The Griffinqueen- Chapter 3 

Chapter 3: A Slytherin

The figure that had burst through the door suddenly exploded with torrent of explanations. 

"...I'm so sorry, Professor, I've just come from Quidditch practice...I hope it's okay...I haven't had time to change out of my robes..." 

The girl had black hair that contrasted drastically with her tannish skin. She had purple eyes. 

The unusually colored eyes were not what Morgana was staring at, though. 

It was the robes. 

They weren't Ravenclaw blue. They weren't Hufflepuff canary yellow. They weren't even Gryffindor scarlet. 

They were emerald green. 

Slytherin green. 

It wasn't as if Morgana had anything against Slytherins. Oh no. Only that nearly every single witch or wizard that ever went bad was a Slytherin. 

Of course Morgana had nothing against Slytherins. Whatever gave anyone that idea? 

* ~ *

Professor Vector halted the still-explaining Slytherin girl with her hand and introduced the two girls. 

"Morgana, this is Stormy Riddle. Stormy, this is Morgana Smith." 

Vector glanced at the clock, then asked the girls what classes they had next. 

Morgana brightened. "I have Transfiguration next, Professor," she told Vector, her murderous attitude toward the Slytherin momentarily forgotten. 

She was snapped back to the present, however, when the Stormy beamed and said, more to herself then anyone, "I've got Potions." 

Figures, thought Morgana. Of course the Slytherin likes Potions. Anyway, even if Snape, the Potions teacher, wasn't the head of Slytherin House, the vilest student would like the vilest teacher. 

Because Morgana knew Stormy. Oh, yes. 

It was the first Quidditch game of the season. Ravenclaw versus Slytherin. Ravenclaw was in the lead, eighty to ten. 

It was Morgana's first game on the House team, and she was trying really hard to prove herself to her new teammates. She was just getting into her best game when it happened. 

The Slytherin Seeker had smashed right into Cho Chang, then blew past. With the state-of-the-art broom the Slytherin was riding, Morgana just caught a fleeting glimpse of the Seeker's face. She saw a floating mane of black hair streaming out behind the offender as they sped away. 

It happened within seconds. Outraged at the violation of her teammate, Morgana sped toward the nearest Bludger, urging her father's old Silver Arrow broom on. Her bat connected with the Bludger as if in slow motion. 

The next thing she knew, the Slytherin Seeker, whom Morgana now recognized as Stormy, was nearly knocked off her broom as Morgana's Bludger glanced off her shoulder, millimeters from a direct hit. 

A Slytherin Beater that Morgana suddenly and inexplicably knew as Cassiopeia cried, "Oh, well done!!" It wasn't unusual for Morgana to suddenly know things. Cassiopeia turned several flips and clapped so hard she dropped her Beater's bat. 

"Da-" the Slytherin Seeker started to yell. 

"RIDDLE!!" Professor McGonagall shrieked over the loud speaker. 

3/4 of the crowd burst out laughing and the Slytherin Seeker, obviously having the last name Riddle, turned bright red. 

Morgana wasn't sure if it was out of embarrassment or fury. 

Stormy tried again. 

"DEAD RATS ON YOU!!!!" she screamed at Cassiopeia. "How dare you clap when I got hit?!" 

Cassiopeia cringed, mumbled, "Oops," then yelled. A Bludger was headed straight toward her! 

She squared up to hit it, then yelled some more when she realized her bat was seventy-five feet below on the grass. 

Displaying split-second ingenuity that made Morgana applaud in spite of herself, Cassiopeia used her head. Literally. 

"Oh..." she half-spluttered, half-scowled. 

Then Cassiopeia sent the Bludger toward a nearby Ravenclaw Chaser with her forehead. After which she flew away in a crazy spiral, muttering, "I'm never, ever doing that again," and holding her head. 

She wobbled past Draco Malfoy, the captain, and told him angrily, "The things I do for you!!", her broom swerving. 

Suddenly realizing she had let her mind wander, Morgana stuck her head out of Vector's classroom door in time to watch the same black hair of the Slytherin Seeker bounce out of sight. 

Morgana pointedly went the opposite way down the corridor. It was worth going the long way and losing more time in her favorite class to avoid her. 

* ~ *

"WHAT?" screamed Stormy. 

"I told you," said Cassiopeia quietly. "The teachers want you and Morgana and some other kids to meet for a special study hall. Introduce friends. Share academic secrets. Things like that." 

"With her?! How can I even talk to her?!" 

"Stormy: Calm. Down." 

"How can I calm down?" 

"Just relax. Geez, what's the worst that could happen?" 

* ~ *

"WHAT?" screamed Morgana. 

"I told you," said Circe quietly. "The teachers want you and Stormy and some other kids to meet for a special study hall. Introduce friends. Share academic secrets. Things like that." 

"With her?! How can I even talk to her?!" 

"Morgana: Calm. Down." 

"How can I calm down?" 

"Just relax. Geez, what's the worst that could happen?" 


	4. The Worst That Could Happen

A/N: More PWP (Plot? What plot?). Trust me, this is necessary. It has nothing to do whatsoever with the rest of the plot, but it introduces the characters and their attributes. Plus it was fun to write. The actual plot will start, oh, chapter 10, 11, although I swore to myself that I would reveal who Morgana truly is (you'll understand once you finish reading) by chapter 4, and it actually doesn't come clear until chapter 7. Of course, you probably have some hint of it by now. There were at least fifteen clues in chapter 1 alone. But enough rambling. I have a tendency to do that. On with the show!!! 

Chapter 4: The Worst That Could Happen

Morgana seethed. 

As if it wasn't bad enough that she had rolls and rolls of homework. As if it wasn't bad enough that she had to put up with Stormy and company for an hour and a half on what was supposed to be her day off. Of course it wasn't bad enough. 

No, there _had_ to be Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs there too. Any Hufflepuff was bound to be silly. And that Hermione Granger was way too full of herself. 

Morgana pressed herself deeper into one of the short, fat wicker chairs in the Ravenclaw common room. She moodily flicked her wand at her quill and ink, quickly grabbed a roll of parchment, and caught the quill and ink as they sped toward her. 

Might as well get started on her essays, she thought with a sigh. 

Morgana was so peeved, however, that she blotted her homework six times on the first sentence. 

* ~ * 

In the Slytherin common room, Stormy seethed for almost exactly the same reasons. Except she blotted her homework seven times. 

* ~ *

_Okay... there she is._

Uric crept forward, slowly, silently, his eyes fixed on Morgana. Her eyes were fixed on her book. 

Well, this is a library, he chided himself. 

Another few steps... steady... stop! Perfect. 

He meant the cough to be unobtrusive, a mere whisper of sound, to alert her of his presence without need to turn around. But when Uric cleared his throat, the noise came out like a hard, loud gunshot, shattering the library's quiet. 

Morgana whirled around, fully ready to face an attacker. Her wand appeared out of nowhere with its business end pointing outwards. 

But she visibly relaxed and lowered her wand when her wary gaze connected only with an uncomfortable friend. "Uric!" she exclaimed, both surprised and relieved. "You scared me!" 

"Sorry," he replied sheepishly and, he felt, inadequately. "I didn't mean to. I just wanted to get your attention," he added. 

"Well, what did you want to get my attention about?" The smooth veils of courtesy in her voice didn't quite conceal her impatience to get back to her reading. 

"Uh..." Uric fumbled with his fingers, hoping he could somehow fill the sudden blankness of his mind. What did he want to talk about again? _Come on, I have to remember something!_

Morgana didn't tap her foot or hum, but Uric got the general impression. 

"Um..." 

_That's it! The study hall!_

"I heard about the meeting you were invited to." An innocuous beginning. 

"Oh?" Morgana wanted to know where this conversation was headed. 

_Stall! This isn't going right!_

"And I was wondering how you got in." 

Her face remained expressionless. "That? It's a specialty kind of thing. I got in on Arithmancy." 

_Say something! Anything, Uric!_

"Well, you know that's not my area of expertise." _No! That's not what you want to tell her!_

"True." She paused for a moment. "I can bring one person with me. I'm not sure who yet, though." Her eyes met his, questioning. "You don't want to come, do you?" 

What could he do with that piercing gaze directed at him? "No," he lied, his heart sinking at his cowardice. 

"Oh. I'll bring Circe, then." He could see her wondering why he'd bothered her as she turned back to her book. _Nice job, Uric. Great way to ask if you can go with her._ He left in self-disgust. 

* ~ *

Circe ducked behind a table. 

She had known this would happen. It really didn't take that long for an innocent academic gathering to come to this. Why hadn't she said anything? 

Because she never said anything. 

Circe sighed. 

However, no one heard it, because of the terrific duel going on. 

Stormy and Morgana circled in the middle of the library. All obstructions, such as chairs and bookcases, had long since burned away, so they paced in a large clear area. No one wanted to, or indeed could, get in the way, even to break up the fight. 

Both yelled curses, charms, and, between bolts of magical lightning, insults. 

It must have been very hard for the two to see each other, however, because of the smoke that hung around. It was in every color you could imagine, having been produced by various spells. 

"Dead rat!" shouted Stormy. 

"Smashed spider!" countered Morgana. 

She had hit a nerve. Just as Stormy was gathering for the spell that might have ended the fight, Cassiopeia interrupted. 

She had been suffering from recurring migraines, ever since she'd hit the Bludger with her head. 

"WILL YOU TWO BE QUIET? I HAVE A HEADACHE!!!!" Cassiopeia screamed, her voice approaching an indeterminate number of decibels, but clearly far too loud. 

All motion stopped. Even the smoke thought better of it and slunk away. 

Everyone blinked and stared. 

"thank you," Cassiopeia whispered. 

She flicked her wand. A bottle of aspirin appeared. Cassiopeia tipped half the bottle down her throat. 

"Ah, that's better." 

Motion resumed. 

Madam Pince, the normally stern librarian, ran over to the scorched bookcases. She alternately yelled, scolded, and sobbed uncontrollably. 

"My books! My precious books! ..... Professor Dumbledore will hear about this, to be certain ... Maybe he'll give you what you deserve for ruining school property.... Oh, my books!.... " 

Circe, Uric, a now-revived Cassiopeia, and a girl Morgana had never seen before dashed to restrain the two nemeses, who were now looking daggers at one another. They had both lost their wands during Cassiopeia's _performance_ and were now looking as if they were going to fistfight. 

At that moment the headmaster burst in, Professors McGonagall and Snape at his sides. 

Dumbledore said nothing when Madam Pince wailed about, "Hundreds of Galleons worth of damage.... Valuable books destroyed.... " 

He said nothing when several very shaken Hufflepuffs emerged from behind the librarian's desk. They had been expecting a quietly social study hall. What they got, well... 

Dumbledore said nothing, and turned around and walked out the door. No one knew why he left. He just did. 

As soon as he was gone, Morgana and Stormy loosed themselves from the restraint of their friends and began their fight anew, this time without magic. 

A girl leaped atop a table, yelled, "FREE FOR AAAAALLLLL!!!!!! and ran screaming into the fray. She joined the mass of flying fists with such a vengeance it was hard to tell whose side she was on. 

By the time the teachers broke up the fight, Morgana had a black eye, Stormy had a busted lip, and the girl who joined in had to be forcibly held back by both McGonagall and Snape. 

She looked as if she had been hypnotized by the glory of the fight, as was evidenced by the fact that she was mumbling, "Kill.... kill..... must kill... " 

Stormy snapped her fingers in the girl's face. 

"Kiri: the fight's over now. I wish it weren't, but it is. You can calm down now." 

"It's over?" asked Kiri, her voice disappointed. "Aw, man. 

"It's okay, Professors, you can let me go now," she told McGonagall and Snape. They looked at her skeptically but let her go. 

"Hey!!" 

Kiri spotted Morgana and made her way over. Morgana found herself being pulled aside. She heard Kiri ask in a low, excited whisper, "It's _you_, isn't it?" 

Morgana was just about to answer that she had no idea what Kiri was talking about when Dumbledore burst in. 

He said three words, in a tone so menacing they didn't dare disobey. 

"Stormy. Morgana. Come." 

* ~ * 

"We'd better get out of here. Filch is punishing everyone he runs into," said Cassiopeia in undertones. 

"Yes," agreed Circe uncertainly. She was still slightly uncomfortable around Cassiopeia. It was partly due to the fact that their best friends were at war. But Circe had been on the receiving end of Cassiopeia's "brilliant" shot. She had a feeling that it had less to do with Morgana and Stormy and more to do with one too many Bludgers. 

Cassiopeia seemed to have read her mind. The Slytherin Beater adopted a pompous accent and told Circe matter-of-factly, "For the love of Quidditch, M'dear, all else fades into the background." 

"Oh," replied Circe, still unsure, but this time about Cassiopeia's sanity. 

"C'mon," called Kiri, who now appeared as normal as it was possible for her to be. "Let's go study in the Great Hall." She glanced around, then added, "There doesn't seem to be much left of the library." 

* ~ * 

Throughout the long walk to Dumbledore's office, the little party was silent. 

Morgana and Stormy were using their imaginations to think up what kind of punishment Dumbledore would deal them; none of their ideas were good. 

Dumbledore himself was too angry to speak. 

* ~ * 

When they finally reached the Headmaster's office, Morgana glanced around quickly. 

She had been looking forward to seeing the strange instruments on the desk, the wizard pictures of previous headmasters on the walls. 

But more than anything else, Morgana had been looking forward to seeing Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes. 

The phoenix was the ultimate of all birds. A phoenix to any other bird was like the Arctic to a snow globe, like an adult lioness to a newborn kitten, like the Dragonqueen to a baby lizard. Like the Grim to a miniature poodle puppy. 

Morgana longed to see its beauty for herself. She didn't have much time, however. 

Because at that moment, the tide burst. 


	5. Crime and Punishment

A/N: Dumbledore is so OOC it's scary. I think I should change it to McGonagall. 

Chapter 5: Crime and Punishment

"Unacceptable!!"

Dumbledore hit his desk with his fist as he screamed. 

Morgana had never seen Dumbledore mad enough to yell. Not once. And she had been in trouble that would have made Fred and George Weasley, famous throughout the school for their mischief, look like saints. 

The headmaster lowered his voice to a low and menacing half-whisper. Somehow it was even worse than yelling. 

"Hogwarts has never seen such a disgrace," he said, his voice dripping with disgust. "And from fourth years! I had thought you were mature enough to forgive and forget your differences. Over a silly Quidditch game!" 

Come to think of it, it was just a Quidditch game. 

But Quidditch was life. 

"I had thought that you deserved a second chance." 

So that's why he left the library. 

"But you proved me wrong long before I had a chance to forgive you. You went into an unauthorized duel in the middle of the library and proceed to destroy half of it, not to mention at least three quarters of the Restricted Section. Those books are irreplaceable! 

"You weren't finished, though. The second my back was turned you start punching each other, for goodness sakes! 

"I had thought that the two of you, of all people, would be more careful. What if your blasts of power had actually hit their targets? What if you'd hit an innocent bystander? What if you'd blown up the entire library?! 

"You shouldn't have taken that chance. Both of you, of all people, should know to be careful with your power." 

Morgana and Stormy felt a little guilty, but that was almost entirely overpowered by their desire to kill each other. 

"I should just turn you over to Argus," continued Dumbledore. "He'd probably hang you by your ankles from the ceiling for a couple of days." 

Both of the perpetrators gasped. Filch would hang them from the ceiling, and they knew it. 

"But I have something much better in mind." 

Stormy and Morgana held their breath. 

"Two weeks detention." 

Half of the breath whooshed out. 

"One week isolation dorm." 

There was stunned silence. 

* ~ *

The isolation dorm was a school legend, whispered about with delicious shivers. No one really believed it would happen to them. 

Dumbledore grimly repeated the terms of the punishment, even though he knew they knew them already. 

"The teachers have agreed to teach you separately from the rest of their classes. You will have no contact whatsoever with anyone from any House, especially your own. Meals will be taken before the rest of the school eats. After your classes you will be locked inside the isolation dorm until the next morning. 

"You will not be able to play or practice Quidditch in any way, shape, or form. We will keep you brooms for you during the week. 

"A teacher will escort you at all times and in all places. Any Hogsmeade trips during your sentence will be off-limits. 

"Finally, I will personally see to it that your owls do not carry any messages." 

The last blow. They were completely cut off from the rest of Hogwarts. Just like that. 

For exactly two seconds, the room was totally silent. 

Then Stormy and Morgana burst out, together, in a tornado of objections. 

"I cannot share a room with her for an hour! Forget a week..... " 

"There is absolutely no way I can do this, just NO WAY!" 

Dumbledore held one hand up and they stopped. There was no need for magic. 

"No," he told them in response to their unspoken question. "There is not a way out of this." 

He glanced at Stormy's lip, which was still bleeding, and Morgana's eye, which had turned an interesting shade of purple. 

"You had better go to the clinic and get Madam Pomfrey to fix you up. After which I suggest you go pack. When you are ready you will be escorted to the isolation dorm." 

He paused, then spoke again. "By the way, your parents don't have to know about this. If you can serve out your term without any more trouble, I won't notify your parents about your little incident." 

"But... but... that's blackmail!" stuttered Stormy. 

"Compared to what you did, it's a minor offense. Do you realize the way the press will be swarming all over here? There is now a gaping hole in the library. How do you think I'm supposed to explain that without it reflecting on my prestige as a headmaster?" 

"Sorry, Professor," the girls mumbled at more or less the same time. 

"I guess we'll be going to pack," added Morgana meekly. 


	6. A Meeting of Royalty

Chapter 6: A Meeting of Royalty

Morgana flopped down on her new bed. It was rock hard. 

Big surprise. 

"Well, it's not exactly fancy," remarked Stormy. 

Understatement of the year, Morgana thought but didn't say. Stormy and her were not exactly on speaking terms, and it would look pretty strange for her to answer anything the Slytherin said, no matter how true it was. 

And the room was, indeed, far from fancy. There was one bare lamp on the ceiling. A dresser and two beds were the only furniture. There was a small attached bathroom with a rusty bathtub and no hot water. 

* ~ *

After several days, Morgana and Stormy had all but totally exhausted the possibilities of arguments. 

So far, they had argued about at least fifty different topics. There were all the normal ones, like lights on/lights off, who got the bathroom first, who got which bed, and other things that any two people will argue about if they're stuck together for too long. Then there were the not-so-normal topics, like Morgana doing her Super-Light Orb spell at three in the morning, Stormy letting loose her pet snakes to lie in wait in the bathroom, and who was the more powerful witch. 

On the fourth night of their week-long sentence, Morgana and Stormy weren't arguing. They didn't have much left to argue about. So instead they just lay down on their beds, seeing who could keep the stony silence longer. 

In fact, they were so occupied in refusing to speak to each other that at first they didn't hear the tapping at the window. 

There was a terrible storm going on at the time. It was inky black outside. The rain poured down like it would never have another chance. The eerie landscape of the grounds was lit up every few seconds by a flash of lightning. 

After on such flash, Morgana could have sworn she heard something. 

"Did you hear that?" she asked her owl, Merlin. 

"What?" asked Stormy groggily. 

"The question was directed at Merlin here, not you," snapped Morgana. 

"Well, I'm not the one talking to an owl!" 

But their spat was silenced by the sound that came from the window. 

Morgana heard it clearly this time. A muffled voice pleaded urgently, "Let me in! It's cold and wet out here!" The voice was accompanied by more tapping. 

It took a while for this to sink in. When she realized what was happening, Morgana dashed to the window and threw it open. 

* ~ *

Stormy gawked. 

She still wasn't sure how the very large silver dragon had gotten through the tiny window. For that matter, she wasn't sure how the huge bulk of the enormous lizard was even resting in the middle of the isolation dorm, which wasn't very large either. 

You're at Hogwarts, Stormy, she reminded herself. Anything can happen. 

She managed to make her jaw work long enough to stammer, "But.... but....dragons are illegal!" 

"This is no ordinary dragon," replied Morgana. 

The dragon itself looked positively disgusted at the mere thought of it being anywhere near normal. 

"Me? A common dragon? Ugh! Certainly not!" it scoffed. 

"But... what are you, then?" asked Stormy, bewildered. 

"I? I am Zephyr, the Dragonqueen!" it informed. "Who are you?" Zephyr added, seemingly bemused (dragon facial expressions are an altogether unexplored area). 

"I'm.... " Stormy started, but was cut off. 

"I know who you are," Zephyr said, in the same kind of tone one would use to say something like, "Elementary, my dear Watson." 

"You're Stormy Riddle. You live with your grandfather, Lord Voldemort, because your parents, Salazar Riddle and Amber Jewelle, were killed by said grandfather because they were going over to the Good side. Your uncle, and your father's twin, Severus Riddle, went into hiding and later resurfaced as Snape. He took a job as Potions teacher here at Hogwarts. 

"You have an older sister named Lex and a younger sister named Sunny," Zephyr ticked off on her claws. "Your best friend is Cassiopeia Malfoy, who is Draco Malfoy's twin sister. Draco has been a friend of yours since you were very little. 

"Name one thing about you, Stormy, and I'll tell you as much or more than you know yourself." 

Zephyr smirked. "And this is why." Then she changed. 

* ~ *

Standing in place of the Dragonqueen was a girl dressed in black Hogwarts robes. 

Stormy got over her shock first. 

"KIRI!!!!" she yelled. 

"I am going to KILL you! You just gave Morgana enough dirt on me to make my life miserable for years!" 

Stormy gestured frantically toward Morgana. 

It was now Morgana's turn to be confused. She'd met Zephyr before at conferences, but Kiri? The Dragonqueen? The words were just not connecting in her mind. 

"But Zephyr... " she protested. "I didn't know you were here! In the same year as me!" 

"Stranger things have happened. Although it is unusual that both the Griffinqueen and the Dragonqueen would be in the same year. 

"By the way, I would appreciate it if you would refer to me as Kiri while I'm in human form. It's much less confusing that way." 

"Sure, Zephyr," mumbled Morgana absentmindedly. 

"Wait a minute, Kiri. You're saying that Morgana is the Griffinqueen?!" demanded Stormy. 

"Well, I think that perhaps you should see that for yourself," replied Kiri. 

"Right." Finally something she could understand, thought Morgana. 

And with that she began to change.   
  
  
  


A/N: Okay, I know you're confused, so let's recap the important things in this chapter. 

One night in the isolation dorm, a dragon flies in the window. The dragon turns out to be the Dragonqueen, whom Morgana knows, but Stormy doesn't. The Dragonqueen turns out to be Kiri, whom Stormy knows, but Morgana doesn't. Neither one of them knew that Kiri and the Dragonqueen, Zephyr, are one and the same. 

The last thing in that long and very confusing chapter was that Kiri says Morgana is the Griffinqueen. To find out if it's true (plus what, exactly, the Griffinqueen is), read the next chapter.   


A/N about the A/N: I don't usually write teasers, but that was just too tempting.   


A/N that is not directly related to either of the other A/Ns: Now the title is coming clear! ::Audience goes, "OHHHH!!!"::  



	7. Explanations

Chapter 7: Explanations

Circe gave a suppressed giggle. 

"Being an outlaw is fun," said Uric in a stage whisper. 

They couldn't help it. Everyone burst out laughing. 

"I'm _serious_," he growled. 

This sent them into fits of hysterical laughter. 

Cassiopeia struggled to catch her breath. "Since - when - are - you - he he he - _serious_, Uric?!" she demanded. Cassi composed herself, then added, "I've - only known - you for a - week and - already - I'm acting - like we've been - friends - forever." She panted for a few seconds, then was unable to control herself any longer. 

While Cassiopeia rolled around on the floor, laughing her head off, Sunny, Stormy's sister, looked around their little group suddenly. 

"Hey, you guys, where's Kiri?" she asked. 

"She usually sneaks over right away, especially for dinner... I wonder where she is." Cassi was no longer laughing. Kiri, a Muggle-born Gryffindor, had never let the separation of houses keep her from her friends. No one really knew how she and Stormy had become associated, but the self-proclaimed insanity case made good company. 

Circe and Uric snickered at the part about sneaking over. They weren't supposed to be at the Slytherin table, either. The two would have just leaned over to talk, except that between the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables there was Hufflepuff. No one was very hot on the idea of talking over a bunch of... well, Hufflepuffs. 

So Circe and Uric were at the Slytherin table, as Cassiopeia would have looked rather obvious trying to blend in with Ravenclaws. She was actually Draco Malfoy's sister, and, though she looked the part with white-blond hair and grey eyes, they couldn't have been more different. Cassi, as everyone called her, was about as much of a personality as Uric. She wasn't insane like Kiri was, but definitely chronically strange. The reason for her personality difference from Draco was probably because she hadn't been raised with her brother. When she was two, she wandered off into the surf during a family holiday to the beach and never looked back. She was brought up by dolphins until she received her Hogwarts letter by seagull. And the rest is history. 

* ~ *

At the end of dinner, as the Houses filtered off, one by one, a last search was made for Kiri. 

It proved fruitless. Kiri didn't leave with the Gryffindors, and she was no where in sight. 

"Cheer up, guys," remarked Uric. "I'm sure that, wherever Kiri is, she'll be able to take care of herself." 

* ~ *

Right at that very moment, Kiri had changed back to her dragon form ("It's so much more _comfortable_ this way") and was watching the happenings between Stormy and Morgana with what could only be amusement. 

Except that Morgana didn't, exactly, look like Morgana. In fact, instead of Morgana, a very large she-griffin was stationed in the middle of the floor. The great creature was looking extremely pleased with herself. 

Stormy took a deep breath. "Let me get this straight." She pointed at Zephyr. You're the Dragonqueen. I've heard of that. It means you're a natural Animagi with the form of a dragon..." 

"Not just a dragon, THE Dragon," interjected Zephyr. 

"...which means that you can change into _the_ dragon whenever you want, without a wand. Okay. Got that much. 

"Now for the hard part. You're..." 

Stormy trailed off, glancing at the enormous, half-eagle, half-lion creature seated on her haunches near Morgana's bed. 

Stormy still started when she heard, or rather _didn't_ hear, the psychic communication of the griffin. She supposed it was necessary. After all, she couldn't imagine the hooked eagle beak of the Griffinqueen being used to form words. At least not human ones. 

< I was born with the ability to change into the greatest of the griffs. > 

She stopped when she saw the look on Stormy's face. 

She paused a moment, sighed her strange sigh again, then continued. 

here she preened her feathers importantly, 

"We get the picture," interrupted Zephyr. 

The Griffinqueen twitched one of her great tufted ears in irritation, snorted, then said, 

"First of all, how come I've never heard of you?" questioned Stormy. 

"Well," the dragon began, "Morgana is the first Griffinqueen in a while. I should probably start at the beginning. 

"No one knows when the first Griffinqueen was, exactly. Some say it dates back to the very beginning of time. But most people think the tradition began sometime during the Middle Ages, when magic was in its prime. 

"In medieval times there were many Griffinqueens, each more powerful than the last. Something strange was noticed, however. There was often a gap of several years between the last Griffinqueen dying, as they serve for life, and the next one being born. Griffinqueens are born, not made, so the people had no choice in the matter. They were confident the new Griffinqueen would appear when needed. And she always did. 

"Until late in the Renaissance. Magic had declined by then. As time went by, without a Griffinqueen, people grew less and less hopeful. Finally, they ceased to hope at all. Most wizards, never mind Muggles, had forgotten what a Griffinqueen was. 

"Morgana changed all that." 

Zephyr nodded to the current Griffinqueen, telling her, "Your turn." 

The Griffinqueen nodded, too. 

"But... what about Gryffindor? They're lions... and Ravenclaw's eagles..." 

"She's right, you know," said Zephyr, thoughtfully. "Hippo means horse, and if griff meant lion, then a hippogriff would be a horse-lion, instead of a horse-eagle...' 

sniffed the Griffinqueen. 

"Morgana... erm, Griffinqueen... no, that's not right... um.... whatever **shall** I call you?" 

"May I talk to Sharpclaw for a second?" interrupted Zephyr. 

Without waiting for an answer, she put an anti-eavesdropping spell about the Griffinqueen and herself. 

* ~ *

"Yes, yes, that's all well and good, Sharpclaw, but do you realize how much you just told her?" 

Sharpclaw just shrugged. It didn't matter, anyway. 

Zephyr continued. 

"I mean, did you ever stop to think about how much she now _knows_?" 

Zephyr seemed reluctant to admit anything, but she did say, "I suppose I wasn't all that wise, but that was no reason for you to make it worse." 

< I don't see why you're making such a big deal of it. There is such thing as a Memory Charm. I mean, we could all just em>forget tonight ever happened. > 

A puff of smoke curled from the Dragonqueen's nostrils. 

"Yes, but there would be complications. After all, before tonight, you didn't know me in my human form. And then there's..." 

But exactly what there was, Sharpclaw never found out. 

Stormy had broken through the anti-eavesdropping barrier. 


	8. The Third Queen

Chapter 8: The Third Queen

  
  
  


"You see, I don't think a Memory Charm would be in order," Stormy finished. 

Her form blurred slightly and twisted downwards. 

And right in front of them was the Basiliskqueen. 

* ~ *

Zephyr looked a little less smug, and Sharpclaw began thought-muttering. 

< I could kick myself! How could I have missed it? She's unmistakably Slytherin. The hair, the eyes, the power, the temperament... most definitely of Slytherin descent. Why? Why? Why? Why.... > 

"That's right." The Basiliskqueen spoke with a slight lisp. "It's me. You knew there is currently a Queen of Serpents. Why didn't you connect it with me? I overestimated you two, then. I would have thought you would have figured it out by now. 

"And yet, you made my plans easy. Played right into my hands, in fact. Zephyr, you showed up to show off at the perfect time. Sharpclaw, you too played straight into the trap by following her lead." 

I lead. > 

"You followed this time. You told me more than I could have counted on. Your Griffin Name, your history, your job. Yes, I could most definitely eliminate you right now. If I wanted to. 

"Because I don't know if I do want to." The Basiliskqueen was playing with them now. "The Three Queens, united once more? We would be powerful, all right. Not to mention it would be good from a diplomatic point of view. We'd all be friends... not enemies. It would be good for political relations between our clans. 

"Yes, I could see every reason not to kill you. I'll probably just make it a warning: never underestimate a Slytherin." 

"Yes, but don't you remember? I could kill you just by looking at you." 

"Not if we didn't look back," argued Zephyr. 

"Do you think I couldn't catch you unaware? You're not as hard to get by as you think, you know." 

This met only with defiant stares. 

The Basiliskqueen Nefariana stared back. In fact, she was staring a bit too intensely. She was slowly unleashing the power of her eyes, which, unlike other basilisks, she had control of. 

Sharpclaw began to hurt dully all over. To retaliate, she gathered her psychic energy and focused it toward the Queen of Serpents. 

"Arrggg!" The Basiliskqueen could not help crying out as a very sharp pain erupted on the inside of her head. 

asked Sharpclaw, instantly releasing the pressure. She preened one of her wings with a distinctly superior look on her face. 

"Well, if we're trying for peace we're getting nowhere," remarked Zephyr. 

"Well, I'M not the one who practically paralyzed YOU with a Bludger!" yelled Nefariana. 

accused Sharpclaw. 

"Deliberately? I was going for the Snitch! She was in the way; I couldn't stop in time!" protested Stormy indignantly. 

"And so now it's MY fault that Slytherin is better than Ravenclaw?" 

"WILL YOU TWO STOP IT?!" Zephyr burst out. "I don't even PLAY Quidditch!" 

This silenced them. Neither Morgana nor Stormy could imagine a life without the game they loved. 

"If you ask me, you should forget that petty feud. You're too powerful for things like that! Wasn't that what Dumbledore tried to tell you all along?" 

interrupted Sharpclaw. 

Zephyr ignored her. "If I were you - well, I would have never got into this mess in the first place, but that's beside the point - anyway, I'd call a truce, because there's a lot to lose by staying enemies, but a whole lot to gain by becoming friends." 

< I guess... > Sharpclaw was reluctant. 

"Say it," prompted Zephyr. 

Sharpclaw transformed back into her human form. "Truce?" 

"Truce," agreed Stormy, also back in human form. 

They shook on it, but as Morgana's fierce brown eyes met Stormy's purple ones, it was plain that just because they were no longer worst enemies didn't mean they were best friends, either. 


	9. What Lurks

Chapter 9: What Lurks

  
  
  


"Where are you going?" wheezed the mirror. It sounded almost exactly like Professor McGonagall. 

"None of your business," replied Morgana. "As long as I know the password and I'm a Ravenclaw, you can't stop me." 

"The last time I let you out late you were gone for nearly six hours!" retorted the mirror. "You ARE my responsibility, you know." 

"You still can't stop me," said Morgana curtly. 

The guardian of the entrance to Ravenclaw terrace reluctantly admitted Morgana was right. "Well, I suppose I can't, but I can tell Dumbledore! All I've got to do is wait 'till one of the ghosts come by and ask them to take a message!" 

Morgana shivered slightly. The Ravenclaw ghost, the Grey Lady, was nice in many respects. However, she was very strict about students being out of bed. 

It was better to be careful. She would have enough to worry about tonight without the mirror making a nuisance of itself. 

Not even bothering to use her wand, Morgana whispered, "Quietus!" 

The mirror as far as, "Now see here, don't you..." before it could say nothing at all. 

"What's the matter?" taunted Morgana. "Student got your tongue?" 

The mirror could not, try as it might, reply. 

The Griffinqueen and one of the two most powerful witches in the world strode away, laughing. 

* ~ *

_**"What are you doing here?"**_

Stormy and Morgana both screamed it as they saw each other in the middle of the Forbidden Forest. 

"You're not supposed to be here!" accused Stormy. 

"Well, neither are you!" pointed out Morgana. 

They stared at each other for a moment. Then Morgana broke the silence. 

"I won't tell on you if you won't tell on me," she said, reluctantly. 

"Okay," agreed Stormy. 

They made their separate ways. 

* ~ *

Morgana, sharp as her ears were, was too preoccupied to listen to the rustling. She didn't hear a thing. Her back was turned, so she couldn't bring her extraordinary vision in play, either. It was much too late by the time she realized anything had happened. 

She was caught now. It was carrying her away. She wasn't finished, though. As soon as it put her down, she would spring the trap. 

* ~ *

Somehow, Morgana was not surprised to see Stormy there. But then, she wondered how many people could have avoided being ambushed by a very large and very cunning spider. 

Both were now bound to a particularly large web in the hideout of the giant spiders by extra-strong threads of silk. Both were looking extremely unhappy at the thought of being eaten by twenty or so monsters before they had a chance to defend themselves. 

A particularly large spider stepped to the front of the pack of arachnids. He was obviously the leader. He seemed young, however. Morgana wondered, as the last time she had come out here to spy, she had seen Harry Potter and his friend Ron Weasley confronted by a very old spider; the apparent patriarch. This spider seemed more like a war chieftain than a patriarch. 

He spoke now, his speech slightly garbled by his mandibles. 

"I am Baragoc, son of Faraboc, son of Aragog. I am Chief now. Aragog is dead. My grandfather showed too much mercy for his own good. He let the humans visit any time, refusing to harm them. I do not show such pointless mercy. You will die here. That is the penalty for trespassing on our grounds now." 

"Excuse me, Barygob, or whatever your name is, you will find it very hard to kill me," warned Stormy. 

"How can you?" taunted Baragoc, softly. "We have your wands." 

"Ha," laughed Morgana, mirthlessly. "We don't need wands." 

"Stop fooling," said a nearby spider bravely. "All our studies of wizards show they need wands to perform any kind of magic." 

"Silence, fool!" snapped Baragoc. "I am master here, I will talk to the prisoners!" 

"Aarrghh!" screamed the spider nearest to Baragoc. "Something hit me!" 

"Damn right it did!" shrieked Stormy. "And it'll hit you again if you don't let us go!" 

It was mayhem. The spiders had never seen anything like the two girls, who could do all but the most powerful spells without their wands. They soon learned to try to keep out of the way, but it was not very effective. Morgana and Stormy were having fun. 

"Podswollopus!" yelled Morgana. Her spell hit a spider directly in the head. It keeled over as the powerful punch of the Podswollop Charm hit it, knocking it out. 

"Diffendo!" screamed Stormy. A nearby spider split open in the abdomen. It was not a pretty sight. 

"Eeewww," commented Morgana, momentarily distracted. A giant spider managed to get in a hit on her, but she quickly sent it up in flames, as well as a few other nearby spiders and a lot of web. 

As if in response to an unspoken consensus, Stormy and Morgana dashed through the broken home of the spiders out onto the grounds... and straight into Professor McGonagall. 


	10. More Trouble

Chapter 10: More Trouble

  
  


They were really in trouble now. They had gone and done it. Not only had they been out of bed after class, not only had they been out of the castle after dark, not only had they been in the Forbidden Forest, they had been destroying the home of the spiders, who could have most definitely killed them... at least in Professor McGonagall's view. No amount of persuasion could convince her that they could have gotten out at any time. Of course, the scratches on Morgana and Stormy were not exactly convincing anybody that there had been no danger. 

On top of that, McGonagall refused to wake Dumbledore up at this hour, insisting that it could wait till morning. In the meantime, she took fifty points off both Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Both girls thought this extremely unfair. But McGonagall made them go to bed, saying once more that it could wait till morning. 

Morgana left McGonagall's office very sulkily. She stalked back to Ravenclaw Terrace, told the mirror the password ("red radish"), ignored its comments (someone must have got the spell off of it), and proceeded right to her bed on top of Circe's bunk. 

That had to have been the worst-fated of her outings, ever, thought Morgana. She should have taken the time to put an Invisibility Spell up; she should have been more careful; she should have checked to see if anyone was out there. But then, it wasn't as if she had had time to check anything, much less put up an Invisibility Spell; she had been fighting a score or so of giant spiders at the time. 

The strange thing was that she wasn't blaming Stormy. She guessed that there are some things you just can't survive together without becoming friends, and being attacked by several dozen bloodthirsty giant spiders is one of them. 

* ~ *

"Wake up, everyone! It's time for classes!" 

Morgana groggily got out of bed and pulled on her extra school robes before she realized she was already wearing her robes. She had fallen asleep in them. 

She disentangled herself from the robes and grabbed her wand, which she had summoned back from the Forbidden Forest, and her books. It was going to be a long day. 

It turned out to be a lot longer than she thought. 

* ~ *

Dumbledore sighed. 

"I'm afraid I'll have to notify your parents," he told them. "About everything." 

This was far worse than anything they had expected. Morgana's mother would simply kill her for getting into a fight, period. She had always wanted her daughter to be extra careful. Stormy's grandfather, Tom Riddle, would be furious she hadn't managed to kill Morgana, and now was (shudder) friends with her! 

Yes, it was going to be a long week. 

* ~ *

A red envelope floated down from the owl. It landed in Morgana's cereal. 

"Oh no," she moaned. "Not another one!" 

Across from her, another Howler had descended and landed on top of Stormy's head. It went off at the same time Morgana gloomily opened hers. 

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, YOUNG LADY? I WILL NOT HAVE YOU FIGHTING IN SCHOOL!! DO YOU REALIZE WHAT COULD HAVE HAPPENED? THAT WAS REALLY DANGEROUS..." 

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU DIDN'T KILL THAT SORRY LITTLE RAVENCLAW? I SHOULD... I SHOULD... WELL, I DON'T KNOW WHAT I SHOULD... OR RATHER I DO KNOW, BUT WON'T SAY IT...." 

The voices of Tom and Morgana's mother Violet battled, each a hundred times louder than in real life. Their victims were glad that the sniggers from the other House tables were drowned out by the noise. 

When the two Howlers finally stopped, Morgana and Stormy looked at each other. 

"It's reply time!" said Stormy, sounding not in the least remorseful. 

"Right!" 

They grabbed a piece of parchment each. Stormy wrote: 

You know you wouldn't dare do a thing to me. Don't forget, I'm more powerful than you are! 

Morgana's note read: 

Sorry, Mum, but it's my life. I am not a baby any more. So will you please try not to treat me like one? 

Of course, both of them knew that this was almost guaranteed to get them another Howler. But neither really cared. 

* ~ *

Strangely enough, neither Morgana nor Stormy got another Howler from those sources. Nothing really exciting happened for a while, besides the Triwizard Tournament and the whole she-bang of stuff like that. But it would be too much time to relate them here. The real adventure began near Christmas time....   
  
  


A/N: One word: review. A few more words: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 


	11. Romance and Murder

Hi, it's me again. Well, the plot thickens substantially in this installment. Ha! You thought you knew the plot, but you were wrong! 

I'm only kidding, before anyone takes offense. 

Chapter 11: Romance and Murder

  
  


"Come on, Morgana, we'll be late for breakfast," called Circe. 

"I'll be there in a minute." 

Morgana looked hard into the mirror in the girl's dormitory. Something was not right this morning, as it had been for the past couple of days. Something was weird, and she didn't just mean Kiri... 

A tiny ant straggled across the wall. Kill it, said a voice in her head. Kill it and watch it die. Torture. Kill... 

No, said another, stronger, voice, why? Why senselessly kill a little ant that's minding its own business? 

The homicidal voice troubled her. What was it? Why did it come now? She'd never felt this before. She couldn't tell people; a sudden, extremely violent presence in your head is not exactly something you bring up casually. Somehow it didn't seem to be herself, like it was some other presence, vying for control... 

Too heavy for so early in the morning. Besides, it was probably just her imagination. 

With a sigh, Morgana followed Circe out of the dorm. 

* ~ *

By now, the Yule Ball was approaching. It seemed to be the topic of every conversation. Stormy was being very mysterious about her date for the ball. Morgana was still steamed about Roger Davies deserting his fellow Ravenclaws for that Beauxbatons riffraff, until someone pointed out that Morgana had almost gone to Beauxbatons herself. 

But possible the most unexpected development was a lot closer to home. 

* ~ *

Uric sighed as she came into view. 

What is it about that dress? he wondered. How can it be so totally unremarkable and yet look so stunning on Morgana? 

The dress was pure white. It was that perfect length: not too short but just above knee length. There was a completely normal round neckline and short rolled sleeves. The fabric was just slightly stretchy. 

The only design was a small gold filigree shape at the middle of the neckline. The color perfectly matched her hair. 

Uric was suddenly conscious of how attractive his friend was, and he also realized that he had known this all along. That was quite a shock. 

Not that she was more than a friend. Morgana, he knew, would never call it more than that, and that made him hope even more desperately. 

He was entranced. Without knowing what he was doing, he strode up to her and blurted out The Question. 

"Will you go to the ball with me?" 

* ~ *

Morgana turned and regarded Uric. 

"Go to the ball with you?" she repeated, in a neutral tone. 

Uric, petrified, could only nod mutely. 

She locked her eyes with his, seeming to size him up, and without another word she grabbed his wrist and propelled him to a deserted corner of the Ravenclaw common room. She motioned him to sit down, and shakily he did so. 

"Uric," she began, "I just don't know." 

He seemed too stunned by his own daring to say much. 

"W-w-we were c-close wh-when we were l-little," he stammered. 

"How can I make you understand?" Morgana pondered. "My parents were really stuffy and I wanted to have fun. You were a Muggle then. No one could have known that you'd end up here. A perfectly safe Muggle that Mum and Dad would never let me do anything with. You were a kind of revolt, I suppose." 

Uric made a choking noise in his throat. 

"But," continued Morgana, "there's no reason you can't be more than that." 

Uric made another choking noise. "S-s-s-so..." 

"So will I go the Yule Ball with you?" she finished, her extraordinary eyes staring straight into, and (it seemed) through his. 

Morgana got up and began walking to the girl's dormitory. When she was halfway there, she stopped and said, in a quiet voice that nevertheless carried all the way across the deserted common room, "Yes. 

"Yes, I will go the Yule Ball with you, Uric." 

Without another word, she turned and continued to her dormitory. 

Uric sat there for a while, staring into space. After a few minutes, he composed himself enough to get up and go to his dorm. He couldn't believe his luck. 

* ~ *

Well, thought Morgana wryly as she stared up at the ceiling in bed, it's better than nothing. 

Barely. 

* ~ *

Morgana tugged nervously at her sparkling gold dress robes. It must be perfect, she told herself as she arranged her earrings for the hundredth time. Perfect for tonight. 

* ~ *

In the boy's dormitory, Uric made hopeless attempts to smooth his hair. He shifted his cobalt blue robes, trying to get rid of nonexistent wrinkles. 

It must be perfect. 

Perfect for tonight. 

* ~ *

"So... um..." Uric was at a loss for words. "Um..." Suddenly, inspiration struck. "What do you think of the Triwizard Tournament?" 

Morgana sighed. "Uric, you know perfectly well what I think of the Triwizard Tournament. I think Stormy should win if anybody should, but they're all idiots for leaving me out." 

Uric fumbled with his silverware at their table, suddenly unable to raise his eyes off his plate. "Uh..." 

"Will you snap out of it and cut to the chase? We both know you want to ask me to go dance, but you're too nervous." 

"Well.... yeah." 

"So come on!" Morgana exclaimed impatiently, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him towards the dance floor. Stormy and her date, Cedric Diggory, were already out there. The former almost burst out laughing at the sight, but one look from Morgana shut her up. 

* ~ *

The two returned to the common room late that night. Morgana was about to part ways with Uric - they'd walked here in uncomfortable silence - but something made her stay. A glance at the few other Ravenclaws around confirmed that they weren't paying attention. Relieved, Morgana crossed the room (gingerly, with her aching feet) and sat down on the couch Uric had already found. 

Before either of them knew it, she had leaned against him and buried her face in his shoulder. 

* ~ * 

Uric's muscles tensed. Could this be real? She trusted him, made herself vulnerable... did she feel the same pull he did? 

Only one action could let her know. He pulled his arm free and, even though he could feel his hand shaking with nervousness, curled it around her waist. 

At his touch, Morgana sighed happily and snuggled closer. Uric didn't dare look at her for fear he'd ruin it... 

He caught himself reflecting, as he felt her warmth against his side, that life must be so simple for her. A matter of I'm right, you're wrong, people can be explained in one word. Types can change, he argued with himself. And simplistic views are only based on what people choose to show us. 

Once he would have tried to predict people by stereotype. Once he lived a shallow, cheerful, easy life. But now he could predict nothing, not even how he himself would react. 

What happened? he wondered. How did my life suddenly gain this disturbing, exciting dimension? 

I fell in love, a tiny voice said, but he pushed it away, not wanting to contemplate its meaning. 

The next thing Uric knew, he was awake and Morgana was gone. Was it all a dream? he thought in anguish. Did she never sit here? 

But the spot next to him on the couch had a small depression in it, and as he inspected the side of his robes, he clearly saw small golden sparkles lingering there. 

They matched the ones he had seen on Morgana that night. 

* ~ * 

"Hey, do you guys want to come to my house for the Easter Hols?" Morgana asked suddenly. Double Herbology meant that she could see all her friends except Kiri. 

Cassi brightened. "Sure! It's not as if I want to visit my family." 

Stormy nodded distractedly and went back to the plant she was pruning. "How are things at Eville..." she muttered softly, apparently composing a letter to ward off boredom. Plants had never been her thing. 

"What about you?" Morgana turned to Circe. 

The auburn-haired girl hesitated. "I think so," she ventured, "but I'll have to check with my mum." 

"Great." Morgana smiled, knowing that was the most definite answer she would get for now. But her mood faded into slight uncertainty as she stole a glance at Uric. "I... I was wondering if you could come, too." She carefully avoided eye contact. 

"I will if I can," he replied just as akwardly. Morgana's heart thrilled. His presence would make her happiest of all. 

* ~ *

Over the next few days owls turned up with permission. Circe, Uric, Stormy, and Cassiopeia were all coming. Kiri, however, couldn't. 

"My parents'll kill me if I even think about not going to see them," she explained. "They live in the U.S., and they haven't seen me for months." 

"I quite understand," replied Morgana, though she didn't at all. Her parents would never do something like that. 


	12. Travel

Chapter 12: Travel

  
  


Morgana sighed with relief. The Easter Holidays were almost here! 

She'd nearly gone crazy from Quidditch deprivation, not to mention missing her cats and Sky the falcon. Morgana had repaired Sky's wing the summer before last, but even when healed the bird was loathe to leave. She would never dream of caging him, but her kept coming back. Maybe it had something to do with her other identity. Anything with feathers seemed to flock around her, but birds of prey especially enjoyed her company. 

"Pay attention, Morgana," snapped Snape, breaking into her thoughts. "Five points from Ravenclaw." 

Morgana groaned. Anything was better than the Potions dungeon. Morgana, claustrophobic and marginally afraid of the dark, had always hated it. Every drip from damp walls made her jump. Every second, she had to fight the nauseating fear of not seeing the sky, of running out of air and wasting away in this terrible prison. And that was just the room. No mention of the course, the bubbling concoctions that seemed so dreadfully underhanded to Morgana. If you were going to do magic, then why not do it with a nice, honest charm or hex? 

And no mention of Snape himself, who amused himself by taking points off Ravenclaw if she so much as breathed. She'd heard from her friends how Snape hated Gryffindor and how much favoritism he showed the Slytherins, but she doubted even that could be worse than the way their class was. For fun, Hannah Abbot and she would keep track of the number of points Snape took off their Houses. The average was about 20 points a class each, but when Snape was in a bad mood it could easily skyrocket. The record was 80 points off Hufflepuff and 75 off Ravenclaw. Morgana wondered if Snape was aiming to duplicate that feat today as he took ten points from Hufflepuff for Ernie McMillan chopping his slugs lengthwise instead of widthwise. 

End, stupid class, end! Morgana thought forcefully. Almost immediately after, Snape announced the class period finished. 

A collective murmur of relief spread through the classroom, but- 

"... and I want you all to write me a ten-page paper on the uses of dragon's blood over the holidays," Snape added. 

Groans and grumbling ensued. 

"The next person who complains will receive fifty points from their house and detention!" barked the professor. 

Dead silence hung heavily over the room as the class walked, single file, out the door. 

* ~ *

"Newt, where are you?" Circe called, peeking behind her dresser. 

"We don't have time to look for your lizard, Circe." 

"How can _you_ talk, Morgana? Your pet's big enough to never get lost." 

Merlin fluffed his feathers importantly from his perch on Morgana's head. 

Padma Patil did a double take. "Sure you'll fit through the doorway?" she asked Morgana skeptically. 

"Probably not." Morgana smiled as she adjusted her owl so his talons didn't scratch her forehead. 

"Gotcha!" exclaimed Circe triumphantly. "There you are, Newt!" She held a small lizard by the foot. It dangled there precariously until she put it back in its cage. 

"Then let's go," replied Morgana. 

Grabbing their trunks, the two strode out of the room. They didn't look back. 

* ~ *

"Yeah, mum, we'll be coming on the Knight Bus," Morgana told the phone. 

Uric and Cassiopeia, unable to restrain themselves, burst into song. 

"We'll be coming on the Knight Bus when we come, we'll be coming on the Knight Bus when we come..." 

"Oh, jeez." Stormy covered her ears. 

"Maybe one day we'll get used to it," Morgana mouthed, still on the phone. 

* ~ *

"So, what's it like to live in a family of wizards?" Uric asked Circe curiously. 

The six of them (Kiri would leave later) had managed to get their own compartment on the Hogwarts Express. They would ride the train to London, then catch the Knight Bus to Morgana's house. 

"Hmm?" Uric pestered. 

"Well," Circe replied, "we get owl post all the time. My little brothers periodically cause small explosions.... and my big brothers act like all big brothers do, only with real snakes, spiders, and other things you don't even want to know about. Cooking's a lot easier. I guess we have it a lot more unusual than most. Six kids that can all do magic is a real ruckus." 

"I'm sure," Uric agreed. "I still wish I had your family. My parents are Muggle through and through. They try to understand me, but they can't, really. I mean, I could float them up in the air, turn them upside down, and shake them silly any time I wanted to. They just don't understand that kind of power." 

"Power?" Stormy said. "You don't know what real power is!" 

Morgana cleared her throat and averted her eyes. Circe, trying to save Uric some face, intervened, asking, "So what's your family like, Morgana? I don't recall you ever telling me." 

"Oh, I suppose some would say I've got the best of both worlds," Morgana stated. "I mean, both my parents are magical, but Muggle-born. My mum has a job as the mayor of the town, so we get Muggles visiting all the time. It was a real hassle until my dad hit on the idea of putting his principles to work. You see, he works for the Ministry, finding new ways to magically expand things. So he and mum- I was just a baby, or with my help it wouldn't have taken half the time- split the house into two identical halves, each a house in itself. One's Muggle, and the other's wizard." 

"But what about your family?" asked Circe. "That's just your house." 

"Well, I already told you about my parents. My brother..." 

"You have a _brother_?" interrupted Uric. 

"Yeah," replied Morgana. "You didn't know that?" 

"None of us did," put in Kiri. 

"I do have a brother. A little pain in the butt he is, too." 

"They usually are," agreed Cassiopeia wryly. 

"Hear, hear!" shouted Circe and Stormy in unison. 

A/N: Well, I didn't really want to end it here, but I had to in order to have this version ready to post in time. Oh, just to let you know, the voice-in-the-head thing is really important. It's in there for a reason, although the "object" being a spider is just another meaningless coincidence. 

I'm sorry, I just read The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy over again. 

So long and thanks for all the fish! 

Maybe I've had a little too much sugar. 


	13. To Jackson House

The Griffinqueen- Chapter 13 

Chapter 13: To Jackson House

"I've got to go," Kiri said reluctantly. "I'll see you later." She winked, an action Morgana didn't understand then but would later. 

"Bye!" everyone chorused. 

When Kiri was gone, Morgana turned to the rest. 

"Now," she announced dramatically, "we ride Bus a la Knight." 

"Your French needs work," Stormy commented. 

Morgana humphed. 

* ~ *

"Coffee," Cassiopeia commanded from underneath her bed, sticking out her hand. When the steaming mug was presented to her, she pulled her arm back under the bed and drank the entire thing in one go. Then she set the empty cup back out and slowly eased into the light, groaning. 

"Anybody know what time it is?" asked Circe blearily to anyone who would listen. 

Morgana rubbed her eyes and looked at her watch. "It's..." 

Thump. Scritch-scratch. Silence. 

"What was that?" Stormy inquired nervously. 

"Worry about getting ready to get off, not some mysterious noise," suggested Uric. 

"I'm not taking orders from you!" exclaimed Stormy, but no one did worry about the sound any more. 

* ~ *

Morgana's house was indeed large. It was something of a medium-sized manor. Set on a hill, it had a monstrous, mostly wooded backyard. The architecture of the house was exquisite Victorian. Circe's mouth fell open when she saw it, but Uric had been here before. 

He lived just down the street and as a child, he had had no idea that real magic existed. Being the only children their age within a two-mile radius, Morgana and he had been friends through school. Actually, Morgana had been home-schooled, but Uric went to the local public school. 

Until Hogwarts changed everything. 

Suddenly he had been able to see the magical side of the Smith home, where before he had only been allowed in the Muggle. He had seen the magical side of Morgana, too. He did wonder how she'd ever hid it. His friend was very obviously extraordinary. 

* ~ *

"All right, this is, as we've come to call it, The Portal," Morgana instructed. She pointed to a huge full-length mirror on a wall in the entry hallway. "If you look really closely, you can see there're no hooks holding it up. 

"The mirror is one of only a few physical doorways between the Muggle and wizard halves of our house. C'mon." 

She whispered something to the glass and stuck her hand right through the seemingly normal reflective face. Morgana announced cheerfully, "Everyone in!" and promptly disappeared into the hidden doorway. 

Uric shrugged and followed, the others going single file after him. 

* ~ *

One by one they popped into view again right in the middle of a kitchen. 

A lady sitting at the table, presumably Morgana's mother, jumped up to meet them. 

"_Mum_!" Morgana protested as she was swept into an extremely enthusiastic embrace. She disentangled herself so she could properly introduce her guests. 

"Mum, these are my friends, Circe, Uric, Cassiopeia, and Stormy. Kiri couldn't come or I would introduce her too." 

"Hi," Stormy said. 

"And everybody, this is my mother." 

"Call me Violet," Morgana's mother added. 

"Hey, why does the mirror take us right into the middle of the kitchen, in particular?" Uric inquired. 

"My dad made a minor mistake in calibration. It was supposed to go to that," Morgana pointed, "end of the room. 

"Trust me, it's better than most. At least you appear at ground level." 

"Do I even want to know?" asked Circe nervously. 

"No," Morgana confirmed. 

"So we have to use the mirror every time we want to move between the two sides of the house?" Cassi questioned. 

"Actually, no. All you have to do is yell, 'Darn cats!' from anywhere in the house and you'll get transported to the equivalent room. Our neighbors must think we have some annoying cats, that's for sure." 

"Will 'Damn cats' work?" Stormy asked. 

"Sorry to say it, but... no," the hostess replied. "It can only be made to recognize one phrase. There's actually a story behind that. My dad tripped over Bonzo while working on it, and by the time he realized it, it was too late. We can't change it." 

"Damn!" Stormy exclaimed. 

"And if you're going to ask why we didn't use that in the first place, it's because you don't always appear in convenient places and the mirror's much easier with luggage." 

"You know me too well," Uric commented. "Oh, and who's Bonzo?" 

"He," Morgana pointed out a chocolate-colored cat with a white face lounging in the corner, "is Bonzo. We named him that because he's a clown. 

"As a matter of fact, why don't I give you the animal tour?" Without waiting for an answer, she adopted a tour guide voice. 

"Now, here at Jackson House we have five cats, four owls, a tarantula, and a dog. In addition to the house pets there are several wild birds yours truly has befriended that frequent the house. To your left you will see..." 


	14. Under Cover of Darkness

The Griffinqueen- Chapter 14 

Chapter 14: Under Cover of Darkness

That night, for whatever reason, Morgana couldn't sleep. She got up and grabbed a drink of water from the kitchen. She was walking back to her room (where everyone was sleeping) when it happened. 

One minute she was walking distractedly down the hall, and the next she was sprawled on the floor, half her drink now sinking into the carpet. 

"Morgana!" Uric gasped. "I am so sorry, really I am. I'm so clumsy. Did I spill your water? Here, let me clean it up..." 

"It's OK," Morgana interrupted. "Relax." 

"I'm sorry, was I babbling? I do that sometimes when I'm really nervous. Does it upset you? I really hope you don't mind..." 

"Uric, get a grip." She took him by the shoulders and shook him hard. 

"I'm sorry," he apologized, noticing how close their faces were: only inches apart. "Can you forgive me?" 

"Of course, silly," she whispered. "And it's not your fault. I wasn't looking where I was going." 

"What am I supposed to say to that?" Uric asked, breaking the mood. 

"Nothing. Nothing at all," she answered. Then, on impulse, "Come fly with me, Uric." 

At least now I know what to say, he thought. Out loud he said, "I'd love to." 

* ~ *

The she-griffin dived from the windowsill. On her back was a young man, thrilled and exhilarated, whose heart soared higher than the wings of the Griffinqueen. 

* ~ *

They landed on the windowsill all too soon. Morgana transformed back and faced Uric. They had no need for words. They had just shared something that no words could fully describe, a complete trust and unity, there in the clear starry night. Under cover of darkness their hearts were in sync. 

Morgana felt a magnetic pull towards Uric. Closer and closer their faces went... 

Somewhere in the house a clock struck one in the morning. 

The pull was broken. "We'd better go to bed," Uric mumbled. 

"Yeah." 

They left for their separate beds. 

* ~ *

Morgana groaned and opened her eyes blearily. After a little while trying to go back to sleep, she groaned again and climbed out of bed. 

Everyone else is already up, she thought. Oh well. 

As she was pulling her clothes on, an idea occurred to her. 

* ~ *

Perfect. 

Morgana's mother sat alone at the table, reading the Daily Prophet. 

She doesn't like to see me reading over her shoulder, she says, Morgana thought. So she won't see me. 

Grinning, she whispered, "Concealae." 

After a few milliseconds, an innocent bystander couldn't have picked her out in a thousand years. She was totally invisible. 

Morgana advanced to her mother, peering at the wizard newspaper spread on the table. 

A particular article caught her eye, tucked though it was in an obscure corner. 

OUTCRY AT THE MINISTRY 

It seems that yet another convict has managed to escape Azkaban, writes Rita Skeeter, special correspondent. You would think there would be extra security after the escape of the infamous Sirius Black, the murderer of twelve innocent Muggles and one wizard. But apparently extra precautions have not been taken. 

Reliable sources have reported that Silas Atalasa, a convicted murderer, escaped from Azkaban early this week. Atalasa has been tried in the murders of several wizards. 

"We're not worried," said Cornelius Fudge earlier today. The Minister of Magic added that, "The man is so completely off his rocker he'll be easy to catch." 

The public is warned, however, that Atalasa is a known Animagus. In his cobra form there is said to be no remedy once bitten. 

As she read, a tendril of some lost thought brushed her mind, and Morgana wondered if this Silas Atalasa could possibly have something to do with her. 

"No.... it couldn't be," she whispered, causing her mother to turn and look for the source of the noise. There was, of course, nothing to see, but suddenly Morgana lost her appetite for reading. 

* ~ *

As she walked outside in search of the others, Morgana was met with a surprise. 

"Hi," Kiri greeted her calmly. 

"_How did you get here?!_" gasped Morgana. "I thought you were supposed to be in America with your parents!" 

Kiri grinned. "They made the mistake of leaving the window open." 

"But how'd you know where to come?!" 

"That's easy. I followed the bus. Although once I did get tired of trying to keep up with all those twists and turns and simply latched onto the top. When I was sure where your house was, I went to see my parents." 

"So that was the noise we heard... you hitting the top of the bus." 

"Oh!" Kiri exclaimed, adopting an exaggerated French accent. "So, you caught me, eh? Shall I execute you, Corporal?" 

"No thank you, General Kiri. You know, I have a nice comfy straitjacket in my closet..." 

"Haha, mutiny!" Kiri mock-accused, laughing. "To the guillotine!" 

They walked off to join the others. 


	15. Silas Atalasa

A/N: This chapter is a turning point, and (much like GoF) is designed to make the story much darker. Many thanks to Kysmet and EternalSailorChibi (aka novadragon and She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named) for getting me here. I hope you enjoy it, and as always reviews are greatly appreciated. 

Chapter 15: Silas Atalasa

And so the first few days passed, fun and games with friends. But for the hostess, carousing had a darker undertone. Morgana couldn't get the article off her mind. At night Silas Atalasa haunted her dreams. She thought she knew what he looked like: brown hair so dark it was almost black, icy blue cat's eyes, and deathly pale skin, as though it never saw sun. 

Worse, the uncontrolled, violent thoughts, like the one she'd had before Christmas, began increasing in frequency and severity. She was certain that these thoughts were not her own, but she didn't know whose they would be. 

At last she decided to consult the expert. 

Walking along her bookshelf one night, late, her hand reached out to brush the spines of familiar friends. Her fingers stopped on the oldest and most worn of all. 

It had been written towards the end of the Middle Ages, by a father and son who, between them, had managed to see three Griffinqueens. The authors had been wizards, and thoughtful enough to place spells on their precious printing to protect it from the rigors of time. The book was practically Morgana's bible. 

The title: A Historie of Gryffyn Queenes. 

It was very informative, but, as the title suggested, written in almost indecipherable Old English. No matter. Morgana was used to it. 

She opened the Historie to whatever page it would. It settled in a section Morgana had never seen before, thought she knew the entire book almost by heart. 

Translated into modern English, it went something like this:   


In general, Griffinqueens are adept in all forms of the mental arts, except for one: Divination. Griffinqueens have highly developed skills in telepathy and meditation, for instance, but they are, as a rule, terrible at scrying the future. 

In fact, the only time a Griffinqueen can practice Divination worth a lick is right before her death. Often, she will know who her killer is months in advance. 

But perhaps this is due to another phenomenon, the mindlink. The minds of a Griffinqueen and her killer become merged, allowing each to feel the other's thoughts and emotions. This link grows gradually more acute as time goes on.   


Morgana's stomach lurched with new understanding. It all fit in. _Silas's_ violent thoughts were invading. _Silas_. 

No, impossible. She couldn't die now, with her whole life in front of her. 

Yet she was showing all the symptoms. 

Perhaps it was only a possible future. One thing she'd actually learned in Divination was that nothing was definite. If such-and-such happened, then a new future split off from what would have happened had that event never occurred. 

Morgana desperately hoped that this future would never be hers. 

* ~ *

A cold wind whispered in Morgana's ears, slowly whittling away at the chinks of the cold grey rocks. Thrown around haphazardly, the rocks were, as if from some long-ago explosion. No other life could Morgana see. No bird sang to greet the sickly dawn. No lizard scuttled across the dismal sand, or sunned itself in the warmthless light. Not even fungus clung to the rocks. 

Morgana dragged herself up from her position lying on her side, trying to retain some semblance of control over her situation. All movement here - indeed, the act of living - was repressed and sluggish. Her heart pounded in her ears from that one small movement; incredible weariness pressed upon her from all directions. Through great effort she managed to lift her face to the listless sun and the world around her. 

This... this was a dying world, its lifeblood slowly leaching away. What manner of people had once lived here? 

A faint patch of white caught her eye. Morgana crawled a few feet that felt like miles toward it and saw what it was. 

It was the skeleton of a cat. 

Suddenly, a scene flashed before Morgana's eyes. Chocolate fur and a white face mask. Incredible antics. Bonzo. The skeleton was Bonzo. Her cat. 

Then this place... was no other world, no foreign desert. It was England. Her home. 

A sound behind her made her turn. She saw a man seated on a granite throne. His robes were blood-red and black, splendid and dazzling in this wasted landscape. His wand in his lap, he threw back his head and laughed. The sound echoed horribly across the empty land. 

He was Lord of Destruction. King of Desolation. Ruler of Everything and No One, he would never be challenged. 

He was Silas Atalasa. 

* ~ *

Morgana woke in a cold sweat. 

Possible future... possible future... not inevitable. Even if she didn't try to take Silas on, another could surely stop him. 

But... what if they couldn't? What if her dream became real, and all life ceased to be? 

Could she really live wither her conscience if she backed away, a coward? If she died trying, then she sacrificed valiantly, did what she knew she should. 

At that moment she knew that there had never been a choice. She swore that she would save the world from Silas. If she failed... then at least she'd tried. 

* ~ *

The jagged lightning seared the sky, washing the night in its brilliant, deadly fire. Dying as abruptly as it came, even the white inferno of the sky had no power to illuminate the black figure. 

The figure's robes were not the starry black of the night sky, nor the glossy black of the raven. They were not the lustrous black of velvet. They were the utter blackness of an arctic false dawn, the total absence of light. 

The figure stayed mysteriously dry through the cruel pounding rain. If the water touched the material - it seemed wrong to call it fabric - it showed no sign. 

Miles away, a girl lay awake. Though for her it was a clear night, she felt every blinding flash down to the marrow of her bones. 

Here, the man in the black cloak felt the cold dread that she could never quite hide and smiled a smile that none could see. He knew they were linked by destiny. He didn't object to it. She was one of the main obstructions in the path to his goal. It would be better to get rid her sooner rather than later (though she would have been a fine one to toy with). He would get a certain amount of enjoyment out of it, putting a proud one down. 

He lifted what must be his face. Another crooked lightning flash briefly penetrated the utter shadow of the hood to reveal... two ice-blue cat's eyes. 


	16. Crescendo

A/N: I know it's been a long time, but this is a long chapter. So sue me. Anyway, mostly sappy stuff... violence in the next chapter, but not much here. And, Sharpclaw curses in the griff-language. What an interesting life I lead. 

Chapter 16: Crescendo

The figurative weight of Silas Atalasa was nearly impossible for Morgana to bear. How do you tell someone you're connected psychically to a convicted murderer who wants to wipe out all life? They'd laugh, or lock you in the nuthouse. Probably the latter. 

But then again, how do you keep the fact that you're going to risk your own life to stop the same killer a secret? How can you keep a clear conscience when you see and talk to family and friends you might never see again... and they don't know? 

There were only a few days left of the Easter Holidays. Morgana thought, grimly, that Silas would almost certainly attack her before she got back to Hogwarts. 

After all, even... well, Voldemort had been afraid of Dumbledore. 

Then again, Silas was considerably more confident than even the Dark Lord had ever been. As to justly confident... that remained to be seen. 

* ~ *

Late the next night, staring at the ceiling in, remarkably, almost exactly the same way that she had so long ago, Morgana thought hard about Silas. About fighting him. And about that little, nagging apprehension... that perhaps she wouldn't leave the battle unscathed. She tried not to think about it too much, because Silas might notice weakness through their ever-increasing mindlink. But, as thoughts of that nature are wont to do, it kept coming back. 

With a sigh, she finally decided that she really would have to tell everyone. 

She only hoped they'd take her seriously. 

* ~ *

"Mum, I have to talk to you," stated Morgana. She sighed. This was not going to be an ordinary mother-daughter talk. Then again, Morgana was _not_ an ordinary daughter. 

"What is it, honey?" 

"I... well, as Griffinqueen... I have... responsibilities. Like protecting those in danger." 

"Go on." 

"And there's this one man..." 

"No," Violet told her daughter. "You may not duel him." One had to expect these kinds of things, being the Griffinqueen's mother. 

"It's not a question of whether or not I _may_! It's a statement that I **must**!" 

"Now listen to me, young lady. I told Dumbledore that this power would go to your head. You are a normal human teen, and you are going to listen to me!" 

"Mum, I'm not normal! You're not normal either! You're a witch, same as me!" 

"You're human!" 

"Only half!" Morgana exclaimed. This was met with uncomfortable silence. The young Griffinqueen continued on relentlessly. "Half human, half Griffin, full-blooded nothing. Sworn protector of freedom and life. All these I am, but I am not normal. I can never be." 

Small tears began to form in Morgana's eyes, her pained look echoed in her mother's face. "Do you think I like it any more than you do?" the younger continued. "Do you think I wouldn't jump at the chance to be one or the other, Griffin or human? Do you think I asked for this? Believe me, if I could avoid this duel, I would have already done so." 

Her voice began to crack at the end of the last sentence, betraying her feelings. Now fully-formed tears slid down her cheeks. She turned away and fled back to her room, sobbing slightly. 

Violet watched her daughter go. She couldn't help feeling like she'd just lost something... for good. 

* ~ *

Now the last obstacle... and perhaps the hardest. Her friends. 

That night, as everyone got ready for bed, Morgana prepared herself. After lights out, when she was sure her mother had left, everything settled down for a well-earned rest. She began. 

"Guys," Morgana ventured. 

"Yeah..." 

"What?" 

"Huh?" 

"Hmm?" 

Four. "Who are we missing? Oh, jeez. Somebody wake Cassiopeia up," groaned Morgana. 

A muffled thud, then a bewildered, "Whaaa...?" 

"Good, now we've got everybody. We'll need that; this is really important." Morgana took a deep breath. 

And she told them everything. 

About the weird violent presences, about the article tucked away in the obscure recesses of the Daily Prophet. 

About how she'd pieced it together. About how he knew what she was telling them. When she finally finished talking, a stunned silence closed its muffled fingers about the room. 

Finally, in absence of a better thing to say, Uric croaked, "So this Silas guy is crazy?" 

"No!" exclaimed Morgana instantly. "He's far from it. It's so hard to understand, but he sanely and rationally wants to obliterate all life. That's why he's so dangerous." 

Another, bleaker pause, Stormy mustered up the question they were all wondering, though they feared they already knew the answer. 

"What does this have to do with us?" 

"I," said Morgana clearly, with resolved intent, "am going to try to stop him." 

Now came the shortest, yet most uncomfortable silence yet. 

"It's tomorrow night. In the woods. Midnight. We'd all better get some sleep," she added matter-of-factly, turned over, and took her own advice. She was far past the point of worry. 

* ~ *

"Excuse me for a moment," Morgana said politely, getting up from the lunch table. 

As soon as she left, little whispers erupted. 

"Can you believe this?" 

"She's nuts to take that man on!" 

"She'll go through with it. That's the scary part." 

Uric straightened up in his chair, saying decisively, "Well, I don't know about anyone else, but I'm not going to let her go alone." 

"Me neither," Stormy and Kiri put in simultaneously. 

"I'm going," stated Circe. 

Cassiopeia exclaimed, "Me too!" 

_Then it's settled_, they all thought. 

* ~ *

The dark of the woods behind Morgana's house was broken by a faint gleam from the tip of a wand. The sounds of night dwellers abruptly stopped, the resulting silence shattered by hissing whispers. 

"Can you see footprints?" 

"It's hard to tell." 

"I can't believe she left without us!" 

"Probably thought she was sparing our feelings." 

"No, just getting us lost." 

Uric looked off to the side, into the forest. He could have sworn he heard something... but surely any creatures in these woods had fled the approach of humans. He didn't notice the gnarled tree root in his path until it was too late. 

With a strangled yelp of surprise, he went down... tried to catch himself, but failed miserably. Now only tangled more because of his efforts to stop, he could only watch as the ground loomed closer and closer. When he hit, he felt a sickening wrench in his ankle, followed by a cascade of pain. He cried out. 

Stormy whirled around. "You idiot! What are you screaming..." her eyes took in the scene: Uric sprawled out in an easily connectable line with the tree root, clutching his ankle in obvious agony, "...for." 

Her first thought was, _Gee, this is just what we need_. 

* ~ *

The cry echoed through the nearly silent woods. Morgana whirled, suddenly wanting very much to utter an oath that was liable to blister the surrounding vegetation brown. Within seconds, she was transformed and airborne. Since she could not curse aloud in Griffin Form, Sharpclaw settled for an ancient obscenity in the griff-language which gave every animal within a half-mile radius a brief but searing pain in the temples. This particular bout of foul language has never been successfully translated. Those that tried came up with abysmally inaccurate but unimprovable results, the best of which being, "the feeling you get when you discover your cereal has teeth." It is unclear why this word is an obscenity in the first place, but such are the divisions of different societies (in this case, different species). 

At any rate, Sharpclaw left to find her friends, having realized the screamer's identity almost immediately. 

* ~ *

"Oh my God," Circe breathed. "What do we do? Oh my God oh my God oh my God oh my - " 

Cassi and Stormy exchanged glances; the latter slapped a panicking Circe. 

"Thanks," the slappee acknowledged. "I _really_ needed that." 

"Don't mention it," Stormy said drolly, turning back to the problem at hand. 

Uric's ankle was twisted at an entirely awful-looking angle, clearly badly sprained, if not broken. Aside from the odd groan he endured silently, though the pale of his face and the grimace that momentarily passed his features betrayed his pain. 

"Was anyone else besides me not paying attention during that Basic First Aid lesson?" mused Kiri. 

"I was sick," Cassi admitted, looking furious with herself and her stomach virus. 

"I forgot," said Circe sheepishly. 

All three looked at Stormy. 

"You think I was actually listening to the teacher? That was during Isolation Dorm week. I was too busy glaring at Morgana to pay attention to class! Not that I pay attention anyway, but let's drop that subject." 

"Well, Uric's certainly in no condition to set that ankle," said a familiar voice. 

"Morgana!" exclaimed the injured in question, if not with untainted happiness (who could blame him?), certainly with surprise. 

_How ironic_, Circe thought. _We follow her to try and help; now we're the ones who need help_. 

"Unfortunately, my expertise in First Aid is about as extensive as putting on a Band-Aid," Morgana continued. She smiled wryly. "So it looks like there's only one thing we can do: get the weight off it." With a flick of her finger, she began to raise Uric off the ground, but he protested. 

"Save your strength," he croaked, obviously still in great pain. But he raised his wand and managed to levitate his entire body a good distance off the ground (at least high enough to not hit any more tree roots). He shrugged off the offers of help from the others. 

Morgana looked uneasy. She kept glancing off, always in the same direction: toward the center of the forest. Finally, she told them that they'd have to get going if they were to meet Silas. 

United, they moved through the pathless forest, toward the battle. 

A/N: Well, was it good? There's a little box where you can answer, and it's right down here!   
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	17. Confrontation

A/N: You know, I think this is just about the shortest blank between getting a chapter typed up and getting it ready to post. Maybe 'cause it's a short chapter and I actually wrote it long before I finished Chapter 16. Otherwise, I don't have much to say. Oh, Morgana really curses in this one. Once. And it's not even a bad one. I wonder: is that good or bad? ^^;;;; (sweatdrop!) 

Chapter 17: Confrontation

Suddenly they stumbled into the clearing. 

Morgana knew he would be there, and he knew she would come. Their painfully acute mindlink had told them that. It had also shown them each other's resolution: only one would leave. 

She stared at him, her fierce brown eyes meeting his cold, ice blue gaze. 

Silas spoke first. 

"So it's little miss Freedom and Life, is it?" 

"Yes, Silas," she informed him quietly. "Yes, I'm here in the name of Freedom and Life. And you will not leave here alive." 

"O-ho, cocky, aren't we? Shame on you, making empty threats." 

"Oh, they're not empty." Something in Morgana's voice made Silas's soul cringe. She felt it, accepted it, and went on. 

Nefariana moved ever so slightly forward, already transformed and battle-ready. "You are going down," she affirmed. Zephyr nodded her head crisply. 

"Now you're outnumbering me? Really, Morgana," Silas spat the name as if it were a particularly nasty sip of potion, "I might have thought you would play fair." 

Without turning her head from her enemy, Morgana notified her friends, "This is my battle. If you respect me, please stay out of it." 

The two transformed back slowly, their eyes on their friend, but Morgana made no acknowledgment of them. 

Silas tried a new taunt. "I can tell, little girl, that even if you defeat me, which is highly unlikely, you won't kill me. You've got too much pity." 

"I wouldn't bet on it. You see, Silas, hell hath no fury like a Griffinqueen scorned. Shortly, you'll get a chance to compare the two. 

"I challenge you to a one-on-one Animagus duel. To the death." 

An Animagus duel... wizard against wizard (or, in this case, witch), no magic, only physical contact and whatever natural weapons your form might have. 

"Your folly. And your own obituary." Silas's eyes narrowed in pride and determination. 

"I think not. But," she continued, "you will transform first." 

Silas laughed in disbelief. "You actually trust me?" 

"No," she said perfectly honestly. "But I am familiar with the rules. Would you like to disobey them? They say the defender transforms first. 

"Besides, there is nothing against my using magic if you don't play fair. I believe you know I could end this with one spell." 

"So could I," he retorted, but he transformed quickly and without excessive complaint. 

Morgana reflected as she transformed, something better to do now than in the heat of battle or even after. My whole life comes down to this. My life so far? No. My entire existence. 

The griffin and the cobra faced each other, eyes locked in a deadly staring contest. Each sense was beautifully, painfully acute: they could see every movement, hear every heartbeat, smell every nuance. Their muscles stood tensed and ready. Neither moved but both could spring with lightning speed at the slightest provocation. 

Sharpclaw said tersely. 

"Why me?" appealed Circe. 

Tears welled in Circe's eyes, though she knew it was true. She could hardly see as she counted it off, her voice shaking. Why was she going through with this? Why was she letting her best friend risk her life? 

Because I don't have the guts to interfere, she thought bitterly. 

Don't let her do it! Stop this now! every fiber of her soul screamed. But it was too late. She heard the word coming from her mouth as if from far, far away. 

"Now." 

* ~ *

The cobra lunged almost immediately, but Sharpclaw was already in the air and wheeling around to reach Silas's unprotected back. He whipped around and hissed as Sharpclaw set back down on the ground. Silas looked quite menacing but the Griffinqueen hardly took notice. 

Thus began the duel. 

It raged for what seemed, to Uric, like hours, leaning painfully against a tree, powerless to stop Morgana's peril. What made him stare endlessly into the fray, not even he himself could guess. 

It was like that for all of them, Stormy especially raging in impotent fury that here was a battle, a battle that concerned her and hers, and she could not fight. 

Indeed, it would have been pointless to join in, for Silas and Sharpclaw were moving and darting and lunging so fast that you could not attack one for fear of hitting the other. 

Sharpclaw seemed to be living a charmed life, for she had only taken a few small cuts and scratches. None had any of the cobra's poison in them. 

Yet Silas was only slightly worse, and still they fought. 

Lunge for lunge, move for move... they were equal. Until Sharpclaw fell. 


	18. Golden Ends

A/N: I must say, the chapter title's a bit weird. Anyway, I've been dying to write this part in the... almost two years it's taken me to get this far. I think you'll be surprised. 

Chapter 18: Golden Ends

A terrible, inhuman scream pierced the air as she hit the ground. And what would have to be described as a smile played on the cobra's face. 

"So you see," he hissed. "So you see now that you are weak and arrogant, like all your kind. Power shall always be triumphant, not values." 

An enraged look momentarily lit Sharpclaw's face, then was replaced by a resigned expression. She sighed. 

< I give up. The duel is over, > she mind-whispered brokenly. 

This had a devastating effect on the others. Cassiopeia simply stared. Circe looked away, sobbing, and a tear slid down Uric's cheek. 

But a look of understanding crossed Kiri's features, and she nudged Stormy. "The duel's over." 

"Way ahead of you, sister," Stormy murmured back. She pointed her index finger at Silas, whispering, "Crucio." 

* ~ *

The cobra gurgled and collapsed. Almost, but not quite, immediately, Sharpclaw was on her feet and gathering for the fatal psychic shock. Now she was free to build. Had Silas not been dealing with bone-crunching, head-exploding, red-out pain, he would have been able to sense the coming blow from the ever-present mindlink. And prevent it ever striking. 

Now, he knew it, but could do nothing under the Cruciatus Curse. Stormy was of course the only one who wouldn't get in trouble for using it. 

With a slight nod from Sharpclaw, Stormy released Silas. The cobra staggered back, as far as a snake can stagger. Sharpclaw faced her enemy head-on. 

Silas sneered. Defiant to the last, he leaned forward and spat in Sharpclaw's face. 

That was the last straw. The Griffinqueen released the psychic shock. 

* ~ *

Silas died instantly and cleanly. He fell back and hit the ground. It seemed a long moment where nothing happened. 

"Well," began Circe, "shouldn't we be -" 

Sharpclaw's legs collapsed from under her. Her body met the forest floor with a thud. 

"- getting.... back.....?" 

Sharpclaw stated, calmly, though she was breathing hard, 

* ~ *

"Not so sure?!" 

Uric's incredulous repeating was all that anyone could say for a few seconds. 

"I wasn't faking that fall," explained Morgana, now back to human form. "Silas had bitten me." 

This, also, took a little while to sink in. 

"He must have known it... the venom's in my bloodstream now. There's no cure. It's only a matter of time." She seemed reconciled to it. "Listen. I had a feeling this was going to happen. When it's over," still, she was calm, "I want you guys to go to Hogwarts. Zephyr can fly you if she's up to it. Dumbledore will know what to do." 

"No, Morgana!" whispered Circe. "No. You'll be okay." It was as close to a command she'd ever come in her whole life. 

Morgana only smiled weakly, against the pain. She glanced around. "Take care of yourself, Uric," she murmured softly, her words nevertheless echoing in the air and in the hearts of five young people. "I'm so glad I've met you, Stormy, Kiri, Cassiopeia," nodding her head slightly to each in turn. "And Circe. I want you to have this." She drew from around her neck, from where it had been hidden by her robes, a milky white orb on a silver chain. "So you can tell the story." 

She changed very fast from form to form now, Sharpclaw-Morgana-Sharpclaw-Morgana-Griffin-girl-Griffin, each appearance so suited to her, each echoing the other, both hinting at the personality within that was the true Morgana, a thing of gold that had touched their lives forever. That would leave them tonight. 

* ~ *

Qualith, chief advisor to Sharpclaw, felt it. 

Qualith was very old. No one, not even himself, could tell how old he was. He must have seen centuries, admirers gasped in awe. 

Qualith was a griffin. 

He had been very young when the last Griffinqueen died. Even if he could remember scarce little from that time, he would always, always remember how it felt when his beloved Queen left this world forever, as vividly as if it had been yesterday. In fact, perhaps more vividly, as Qualith had been known to forget yesterday at times. 

Her Final Statement. The last thing she would ever say to her subjects. The Griffinqueen would have but a precious few seconds. A few seconds, while the strange affinity that formed only as she was dying lasted. 

It echoed through Qualith's head. And now another Queen was dying. 

It tore Qualith's heart out all over again. He wanted so to be with his Queen, to console her, to help her.. and yet he was powerless. Powerless to stop the venom spreading through her body, even now slowing her heart. 

It was an awful way to die, he realized suddenly, an awful way to die... 

It was getting weaker, much weaker, and Qualith dimly knew he was getting weaker too... 

What a good end, he thought, to die with your Queen. 

He could feel his old life ebbing, just as, many miles away, Sharpclaw's young life was. 

Qualith closed his tired, oh so tired, eyes and at last went to sleep. 

He would never wake up. 

* ~ *

With one last, wordless whisper, she was gone. 

Her body, fixed in a strange combination of Griffin and human, did nothing so much as drift apart, like the unraveling of the golden ends of a tapestry, into tiny bits of gold dust. That which had once been Morgana blew away in a slight breeze. All was silent. 


	19. The Bleak Ashes

A/N: A bit more of the PG-13 rating comes in, as Stormy breaks out the curse words. Otherwise sappy tragedy. But what did you expect? 

Additional Disclaimer: The "Remember Cedric Diggory" speech is reprinted here in part. I don't claim ownership in any way of this quote, which belongs exclusively to JK Rowling. 

Chapter 19: The Bleak Ashes

The survivors, their minds numb, never remembered much of the journey to Hogwarts. It was nothing, really, for Zephyr's powerful wings, but it was only reflex that kept her in the air, only pretense that kept the others holding on. That which they had seen and lost was not yet real for them. 

For them, the world simply skipped from the cool night air with the landscape below them to Dumbledore's office, with the pictures of sleeping previous headmasters and strange instruments and the phoenix softly dozing in one corner. He came to meet them, and though it was late at night, none of them could even think about sleep. The headmaster's sad, liquid eyes took it all in, no longer possessing their usual merry glint. 

"What a tragedy has played out in our midst," he said softly, after they had somehow managed to pour out the whole story. "You, who were vulnerable to it, could not be warned. I daresay that without your help Morgana would have failed, alone and ineffectual, a needless death." 

He sighed. "Still a needless death, but with at least a purpose. She died to save the world from its own folly, in underestimating Silas Atalasa. Perhaps it might have been different... if Sirius Black... no matter. The world is enough to ponder without what-ifs. I wish that I could comfort you more." 

They stared back at him, yet not at him. They still searched for something, something gone away. 

Fawkes the phoenix, in his corner, opened an eye and looked at them. Dumbledore caught the gaze of his pet, and smiled slightly. "Yet, perhaps one day, Morgana may rise from the ashes, like the phoenix she loved." 

And at last the tears came. 

* ~ *

The last night of the Easter Holidays they spent grieving. 

Cassiopeia flopped down upon her bed in her (mercifully empty, except for Stormy) Slytherin dormitory. She stared at the ceiling the same way that she could not know Morgana had, her tears noiselessly sliding down her cheeks until she fell asleep from sheer exhaustion. 

As Stormy walked into her room, white flashed in the corner of her eye. It was a note Morgana had written her once. Suddenly, the full force of what had happened hit her. "Holy fucking shit!" she murmured fiercely, sitting down hard on the nearest bed. She couldn't say the rest: Morgana is dead. 

On the edge of the forest, in the dark of night, Kiri, wanting to mutilate something, took out all her anger on a tree. As the torn and ashy ruins of the wood hit the ground, she sunk to her knees. "Today sucks," she whispered, crying long into tomorrow morning. 

Deep in thought and pain, Uric lay, the pain not of his now-set ankle, but of his heart. He knew now, too late, that he had loved her. He'd never be able to tell Morgana. But he couldn't forget her. He felt, instinctively, that this pain would always be as fresh as it was tonight, never to fade with time. No mourning could bring her back... but he must mourn anyway. 

Circe had thought that she was beyond tears. But the hot, bitter drops slipped unwillingly from her eyes. She couldn't stop remembering all the times she'd had with her now gone best friend. In a sudden fit of anger at the world for causing her so much pain, she all but tore the orb Morgana had given her from her neck. In her grief-dulled panic she might have smashed it, but now, the first time she had touched the orb itself, she felt something. Cupping it in both hands, she was astonished to see an image of Morgana, obviously looking in the mirror, and heard a voice intone, Welcome to my memories. Pulling her mind back in shock, she nearly dropped the orb again. 

A Memory Orb, akin to the Pensieve. Not only were they valuable, they were extremely hard to make... but they could preserve a legacy if the enchantment to bring them to life was done correctly. As this one would... leaving the thoughts and experiences of Morgana Smith behind long after she was gone. And Circe had been trusted with this.... 

Just relax. Tentatively, she reached out... and found the whole story, from the point of view of its central character. 

And when, as the sun peeked over the horizon and chased away the night, she finished seeing what the orb had to show, she vowed to tell this story. The world would remember. Morgana had not died in vain. 

* ~ *

Dumbledore told them that, at least for a while, the death of Morgana could not be public. He knew that something waited in the wings, and he sensed that, if he revealed it now, she would have truly died in vain. Her remembrance would be lost in the events yet to come. 

Perhaps it was hardest on her friends, this way, but they had to be strong. The time was not yet right. 

In this secrecy they were helped by the fact that Morgana had not been popular in the sense that she had many who would miss her. In fact, most of those that mattered already knew. Perhaps Professor Vector noticed the absence of her star pupil, but she never got around to asking what had happened. Morgana had been like that in a way: people only noticed her if they were forced to, or if they had a great deal of empathy. 

And the weeks passed. 

In the aftermath of the fateful third task of the Triwizard Tournament, and the death of Cedric Diggory, no one really noticed if two Ravenclaw, two Slytherin, and a Gryffindor fourth years went around more red-eyed than they should have been at the loss of the Hufflepuff seventh year. But in a way, they were glad of the public mourning. It gave them a chance to outpour their grief out of secret. 

* ~ *

"Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should some when you have the make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory." 

Dumbledore's voice echoed around the Great Hall. 

In the almost total silence that followed, Uric's voice was very obvious as he said a single word. 

"Remember." 

His boyish voice cracked slightly towards the end. There was so much pain in that one word that no one knew quite what to say. Several Gryffindors giggled nervously, as if wondering how a Ravenclaw fourth year so removed from Cedric could feel so badly. 

But as for Circe, Kiri, Cassiopeia, and Stormy, they knew why he was so mournful. There were not one, but two students missing. 

Many people would never notice Morgana's absence. But for the ones who had known her, there would be no forgetting. 


	20. Epilogue

A/N: It's short and a little disjointed, but here it is. The end. I think I'm gonna cry... 

Epilogue

At last, the story released her. She floated pleasantly up toward reality, her mind leaving the long-ago place it had found. Slowly, her thoughts registered the room around her. 

The blackout had ended sometime, unnoticed. The girl pushed a strand of her golden hair behind an ear. Her shining brown eyes surveyed the relit room, her mind still not quite of this earth. 

"I'm home!" a faraway voice called. The girl's head snapped towards the sound. Seconds later, a blue-eyed, auburn-haired lady stood in the doorway. The girl knew, now, that a misty orb on a silver chain nestled under the woman's robes. 

"How were you while I was gone?" Circe asked her daughter. 

"Fine," Morgana Mystos replied. She smiled. "Just fine." 


End file.
